Thanks Part One: A Zev & FCousland short story
by Leilana.is.dtf
Summary: Warning for violence & adult themes. Cousland female Warden dragon hunter travels with Zevran. He is busy trying to figure her and himself out as he pursues more than a friendship. AU story, not completely edited yet. Reviews/comments welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Special thanks to my beta, 'varelishawt' on dreamwidth-dot-com. I decided to edit and add content to make the character's history and motivations more apparent earlier in the story. Since the chapters became quite long, each former "part" of the first release has now been separated into two chapters. Feedback is welcome. Thanks for reading, and thank you to all who've previously reveiwed.  
**Rating**: Overall story is AO, some sections NSFW. This chapter rated MA  
**Word Count**: ~6800 (original version posted to LiveJournal on 30 NOV 2010)  
**Summary (AU)**: A very stressed-out Tenniel Cousland decides to vent to Zevran when she has a bad day. He decides it can't hurt to listen... or can it?

* * *

_**Chapter One**_

_Kill, don't think. _Her mentor's words echoed in the back of her mind, goading her on well past the point when she should have stopped raising her arms, stopped striking, slashing, dodging, kicking… _Close your eyes, feel the next move. Own your body, own the battlefield. _You_ are your only enemy. _

Her fellow warden went down, and that's when the rage started to claw its way free_, _tearing out of her body with more pain than the hurlock's mace against her arm. She screamed and turned, a fountain of dark crimson gushing from the creature's neck and onto her shoulders instead of her face.

_Stab upward, twist. Crouch down, block. Pull back stone blade quickly, strike with sky. _Time slowed. She was spent, her arms shaking with fatigue. _Arms _up_!_ Y_ou wield two blades, they don't wield you_!

She knew she should stop and run towards the rest of her party. _Won't they just come after me_? Her own small voice was all that was left. The acrid, horrible smell of darkspawn assailed her until she felt she was almost choking on rotten flesh and burnt cabbage. And she finally gave in to it, euphoria dulling the edges of pain as the icy rage that had been ripping her up from the inside for weeks since she last stood on the castle grounds freed itself.

_Why do I even bother trying to fight it? _Her last coherent thoughts became ash against the storm as her body instinctively spun around and she felt _laughter_ bubble up at the sight of another two dozen darkspawn clamoring up the hill after them. Her blades flew, again and again.

* * *

He had been with her up until the moment he heard her scream, realizing the shriek and two genlocks that he was contending with had shifted his focus just enough for a hurlock to slip in between their backs. And that's when he lost her, and his blood ran cold with thoughts of what he would do if she fell, because _he had sworn an oath._

The assassin shivered in fear as he saw her run towards the horde and heard, of all things, her _laughter. _As if they were of one mind, the seething mass of darkspawn turned their full attention to her and he looked down with trepidation, and then awe as her swords started to dance. She was a wild, eerie, beautiful, possessed thing, laughing as she stabbed and sliced through their pursuers, blood showering all around her. It was surreal, it was horrifying, it was amazing and she… she was still laughing, even after the last creature fell and she could find nothing else to sink her blades into. _Is this something peculiar to Wardens?_

Zevran looked to Alistair and found that he had fallen, both Morrigan and Wynne attending to the young man's bloodied leg as Leliana fought off a lone genlock. He turned back to view the Warden, about to walk towards her when he was forced to cover his ears. Her mabari howled, a mournful keening sound that seemed to cut into his very soul like the feel of Morrigan's frost spell... and the Warden finally stopped her maniacal laughter. She sat, no, _fell_ down on her backside in the middle of the darkspawn corpses, hands still gripping her swords, her eyes staring into nothing as the dog slowly approached her. The elf crept down the hill, closer to her side, and watched as she began to twitch.

"Tenniel." He whispered soothingly, approaching her with caution, as if she were an injured but feral beast. He had seen men suffering from battle-sickness after particularly tough missions a few times, but this… this went beyond any normal traumatic response. She twitched again, eyes staring at nothing, refusing to respond. _What's wrong with her? I've never seen her like this… how can I protect her from _this_?_

The mabari gave another bark, sharp and quick and a little more quiet this time. And he released a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding as she finally turned her head and looked at the dog.

"Tenniel," he repeated, still receiving no response. "What's wrong with her, Terri?" he asked the war hound, because she was apparently not talking. Zevran slowly moved his hand, reaching out to touch her shoulder when she brought the Green Blade up with a quick swipe to the left. Years of training didn't fail him as he hastily sidestepped, to avoid having his arm slashed by her blade. He crouched down then, thinking that being eye-level with her might help.

"Tenniel. Look at me. Listen. It's _me_, Zevran. Your assassin, remember?" Another twitch. Finally, her eyes seemed to focus and she looked _at_ him instead of _through_ him. Her arms dropped, but she refused to release her blades and she started shaking. But at least she had done that much.

"Brasca! You gave me a scare, woman." He carefully crawled toward her, pushing a headless genlock out of the way until he reached her side. The Antivan slowly pried her fingers off the pommel of her swords, wiped the blades on the back of the corpse and slid them into the sheaths she had on her back. Terri started licking her hands, and she shook her head and groaned.

"Can you talk?" Still no response. "Can you stand up?" Zevran crouched in front of her and grabbed her arms to see if he could coax her up from the blood-soaked grass. Thankfully, she rose. He didn't relish the thought of having to carry her up the hill, but he knew he would do it if required. He wrapped his arm around her waist and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, forcing her to use him for support. "That's it, _amiguita, _one foot in front of the other. You're safe now. Let's go."

* * *

"_Now_ what're you staring at me for, Zevran?" Tenniel grumbled at the assassin, arms crossed over her chest. She felt like a sucker for agreeing to let him 'stare luridly' at her in return for answering a few questions the previous day, and in her current mood, she had no patience for his perverted little comments. "Really! Have I sprouted two heads? And wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you… you… elf!"

"Oh-ho, feeling saucy now, aren't we?" He had removed most of his armor already and was clad in a set of plain but comfortable linen tunic and breeches. Zevran leaned casually against a tall oak tree next to one of the many feeder streams for the lake, one hand on his hip in a defiant display of cockiness as he twirled a dagger with the other. As handsome and muscular as he was, it in no way detracted from his masculinity.

Tenniel thought he was beautiful, but in her mind, beautiful meant trouble. Trouble and heartache that she no longer had the time or luxury of pursuing. _And considering how boastful he is, he probably has a little penis, to match his cute little pointy ears_, she thought. _Why, oh why did I even bother sparing his life? _"No, _we_ are _not_ feeling saucy at all. I am feeling like I could rip something in two. Those darkspawn were pathetic… not even worth my time."

"Well, my dear Warden, considering you cut through thirty of them while the rest of us just watched, I'd say it was worth _our_ time. How often do we lowly followers get the opportunity to see such a skilled and effective fighter demonstrate how to make quick work of the filthy creatures, hmm?" Zevran tried to tease and charm her into conversing with him, because it was clear to him that her mind had gone blank for the few minutes during and after her fight with the pursuing darkspawn. _This sort of thing cannot be good for her health. Do the others even realize what she did?_

"Ah, uh, what?" She started to feel a bit guilty about leading her team into the fray. Alistair had tried to take on a hurlock on his own but had gotten injured after being ambushed by a genlock. Now they had been forced to make camp already when it was barely noon, and Wynne and Morrigan were both tending to his broken leg and stab wounds. _Wait… how did I get back here? Did I really kill that many of those creatures? I only remember fighting six or seven of them._

"You are an artist, always insisting on completing your masterpiece alone. Yes, yes. A beautiful, graceful artist with fire in her eyes, dancing with two swords…"

"Hey, cut it out! Why do you always do that?"

Zevran pretended to ignore her interruption "So irresistible… hair whipping around seductively in the wind as you turn to make yet another kill, drakeskin armor barely containing your ample bosom…."

"My _what_? Oh, you are _so_ not talking about that right now. Shut. Up. _Now_!" She angrily kicked the tree next to him with the heel of her boot for emphasis, and then bolted away to dodge the pine needles and feelings of embarrassment that came showering down upon her at her rude outburst. Just because another handsome man named Lucien had affianced her, lied to her and left her feeling a little bit more jaded did not mean she should take her frustration out on Zevran. Once again she had overreacted, simply because it reminded her of what someone else had done to her long ago.

"_Yes, I suppose she was a good enough lay, and her daddy's money sweetens the deal. But by the Maker, her tits are huge! I mean, there __**is**__ too much of a good thing, after all. The poor girl can't even see her feet when she stands with those great big mounds of flesh. I bet I could knock that cow up and she'd make enough milk to feed all the hungry children in Thedas_!"

It wasn't as if Lucien's words themselves had cut so very deep. She knew her breasts were quite large, especially for her age. And everyone was entitled to their own preferences. No, it was the fact that he had claimed to be her friend and confided to her about how insecure he felt around beautiful women that grated on her nerves. Tenniel had almost begun to feel a sort of camaraderie with him, and it wasn't as if she was some cringing virgin bride-to-be. So she had bedded him willingly enough. But he had completely shattered the illusion of them having a bright future together just a few hours later that night. His words had proved that he was just another lying, backstabbing, no-good nobleman with a hidden agenda. Just like the rest of them.

Tenniel grabbed her pack and a tinder bundle she had placed on the ground earlier and stomped away in a huff, eager to get as far away from camp as possible. _I have no idea why I've got so much pent-up energy lately, but I wasn't lying about wanting to rip something in half._ The Warden walked faster and finally started jogging upstream, following the brook for about three miles until she came upon an area where water cascaded down from a cliff into a pool before continuing its way downstream. It was a perfect spot to spend some time alone and take a short bath, so she started gathering dry wood, lit her tinder bundle and had a fire started after several minutes. She quickly pulled off her boots and socks, unlaced her leggings, unbuckled her armor and breathed a contented sigh when her chest was no longer constricted by the tight drakeskin. Zevran was extremely observant; almost to a fault. The armor was a bit too snug up top, but then again, it wasn't as if she had the time or enough coin to order a custom-fitted set yet.

The Warden unwound the tight leather cord that kept her long blonde hair in a neat braid and rummaged through her pack to find her brush. She pulled out a wide but shallow wooden bowl and a bar of lavender-and-mint scented soap out of her pack, taking a moment to close her eyes and breathe in an aroma that reminded her of the luxuries of home. Tenniel brushed her waist-length hair impatiently and then experienced a stab of painful regret when the sun glinted against a gold ring encrusted with diamonds and emeralds that had fallen out of one of her pack's many pockets.

It was Lucien's ring, the promise ring he had given to her almost four years ago. She squeezed it in her left palm until the metal bit into her skin as the tears squeezed past her eyelids. Memories assailed her, broken and confused; just like the way she felt after today's battle. It seemed so long ago, things that happened to another girl in another world when her family had visited Orlais and she had become infatuated with the Duke's son. He was suave, debonair, handsome, and cocky – just like Zevran in so many ways. And she remembered how Lucien had bedded her, and then crushed her heart when she overheard him bragging about it to his older brother and another male noble one evening in his study.

* * *

_Tenniel didn't bother to stick around to hear the rest of the laughter and the jokes. She simply left in a carriage the next day with her family, without even saying goodbye. Bryce Cousland looked at his daughter with a puzzled expression as they faced each other in the carriage that morning. One of her hands had a death-grip on the seat cushion, and the other was holding the silverite longsword she refused to part with. Tenniel hated carriages. The feeling of being trapped in a velvet-lined, flimsy bucket of bolts travelling at breakneck speed over the old Tevinter roads set her teeth on edge as they bounced along. No wonder her mother constantly complained of headaches._

"_Are you alright, Pup?" he asked as he folded his arms underneath his green and gold brocaded doublet._

"_Hmm? Yes, I'm fine. It's a little late to be asking after my health, don't you think?" She added, almost as an afterthought._

_The Teyrn's brow furrowed even more deeply. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean, young lady?"_

"_Nothing. Nothing at all. Forget it. I'm just… tired." She glanced over at her mother, who was out cold. At least the Teyrna was smart enough to have a potion made for her that would let her sleep until they arrived at Val Foret. Tenniel sighed and wished she was still able to travel in the wagon with Terri, Regina and their supplies. It was slower, but she could have looked out on the open road that way._

"_Yes, well… I think we've all had quite enough of Orlais for now. Are you sure you're alright with the betrothal? You know, you can call it off anytime."_

"_No, it's alright, Father. I'll do my duty. I'm no child. No more complaints." She smiled ruefully, suddenly feeling awkward. He never talked to her for more than a few minutes. Bryce Cousland was her father, but he was not her dad. Still, it never hurt to be polite. And they certainly had plenty of time to spare for idle chit-chat._

"_You'll always be my little Pup, my daughter. And I won't stand for it. Not if you're unhappy, that is."_

"_No, I'm not unhappy. I just… I can't wait to go up to the Frostbacks again in a few weeks. Val Royeaux is nice… but it's… the people are not so nice. Like streets paved with broken glass. Really pretty to look at when the sun's shining, but it hurts to walk amongst them. You know?" She sighed and rubbed her thumb along the pommel of her sword, wishing she could free it from its sheath and cut her way out of the carriage._

_The Teyrn looked more closely at this daughter, seeing her in a different light in more ways than one. "Aye, Pup. That's very… insightful." The carriage hit a particularly nasty bump and he reached for his wife, pushing her sleeping form further into the couch cushions as they continued to speed along towards The Heartlands. "So, what do you plan to do the next three years, until your wedding?"_

_The golden-haired teenager laughed and shrugged. "I plan on dodging mother's stupid salons as much as possible. And hand-to-hand combat training as much as I can. I know… I know I can't be a knight. But it's not such a bad thing to aspire to, is it?"_

_Bryce laughed at his youngest child's audacity. "No, it's not so bad at all. The Gilmores have trained you well. Your friend Roland's going to be knighted at the summer festival, by the way. "_

"_Really? That's absolutely wonderful, Father - he'll be so thrilled! Ah, you're so cruel! You know I can't tell him, and the festival is three weeks away!" _

_She looked at her mother's sleeping form again and the way her head lolled against the pillow on her father's lap. "You still love her." She changed the subject abruptly._

"_What? _Of course_ I love her. Eleanor and I… we've been through a lot together. I know I'm not home as much as I should be…"_

"_She misses you." She wanted to say that they all missed him, but she felt they were past the point of no return when it came to that topic._

_He patted his wife's head and smoothed her hair away from her face. "Yes, I know. I miss her too. I will always love her, no matter what. And I know she feels the same way." _

"_So, is that the way of things, when nobles are married? Will I have to look elsewhere for my discreet comforts and hope it remains unnoticed… and watch Lucien do the same?" Her father had to have known she wasn't talking about sleeping potions._

_Bryce Cousland stared at his daughter and continued running his fingers through his wife's graying hair. "It's no wonder people forget you are only sixteen, Pup. You see and know too much. Much more than your brother did, at that age." He sighed and watched as she finally set her sword against the side of the carriage, in between her leather seat cushion and the door. "Don't worry over such things. It's not your place. Besides, you and Lucien seemed to have gotten along famously. With any luck, you'll be doting over each other like Fergus and Oriana." The cleverly artful diplomat was quick and subtle with his approach, changing her focus like a bard changed his chords to subdue a room of angry guests._

* * *

Even though she despised the idea of marrying a nobleman, especially when it was for purely political reasons, she had agreed to court Lucien so her mother would stop pestering her. Tenniel had always kept Lucien's ring close at hand. It reminded her to be strong, to never trust a handsome face, and to never let her guard down. This of course meant that she didn't get many offers for marriage after he died, which had frustrated her mother to no end. No one in her family understood the real reason why she was so hesitant to let anyone get close to her. No one ever really understood why Lucien had been the first and the last noble she ever agreed to court.

It was true that most of the Fereldan nobility respected her family's political influence, but unfortunately, most of the eligible males were also afraid of her fighting prowess. No one else had ever trained under the deadly master archer and swordsman, Ser Walter Gilmore, for more than a few months. She had been under his tutelage for well over six years. It was obvious to all that she was no spoiled aristocrat with a passing fancy for swordplay. She was quiet and somber, never even cracking a smile at any of their attempts to flirt with her. The Teyrna had finally turned to her Orlesian friends to find a suitable match for her daughter, with no thought as to why Tenniel seemed determined to remain unmarried in the first place.

She shook her head, trying to get out of the fugue that had enveloped her senses. _Why am I thinking about these horrible memories right now?_ Tenniel looked down at the ring again, glinting brightly and cheerily against the sun. _Is this thing cursed?_

It took a while to earn their trust, but after the first few battles with Ser Walter at her side, she had been asked to settle countless border skirmishes amongst the banns the next five years on her own merit. She had made quite a reputation for herself as a thorough and efficient bounty hunter, good at enforcing the stiffest penalties on any ruffians who dared to prey on freeholders or noblemen in the northwest section of Ferelden. The youngest Cousland had even bested her brother and all of his friends at both archery and hand-to-hand combat in the last two festival contests, relishing her mother's look of surprise as she stood victorious.

Tenniel chuckled to herself, wondering again why none of the banns or the knights ever thought to question why someone so young could be such a ruthless fighter and executor of justice. In actuality, she just liked hunting and killing people. Why bother being a felon when she could do it with the sanction of the Bannorn, without having to worry about her mother's pinched frown of disapproval at her unladylike behavior when she trudged home, her armor caked with layers of blood and road dust? _Actions speak louder than words. To this day, they probably think I'm the same age as Regina…_ She stopped herself from reflecting further along that line. Thinking about those she lost in the castle would only lead to more rage and more bloodshed, and Terri was nowhere near to help calm her down.

All the other strange things that had happened to her after she returned from Orlais and after the harvest season when she was sixteen had laid the groundwork for her later successes, triumphs and the bitter remorse of today. Tenniel had almost forgotten what it felt like before she was a Warden, before she was a dragon-hunter with strange blood flowing through her veins, and before she ever rescued a set of Dalish twins from bandits.

But now there would be no more happy memories of travelling along the riverside with Terri in Val Royeaux, no more silk coverlets, no more rose and lilac-scented baths, no more drunken parties and staying up late with the guards, no more teasing Nan or playing practical jokes on Mother Mallol, no more baiting Roland into betting his monthly wages in a game of Wicked Grace, no more arguing with her mother about why she didn't want to marry or even meet some friend of a friend's son, and no more lively festivals in Castle Cousland. No, her tears weren't for Lucien. They were for her, her family, all the senseless deaths at Ostagar, and the life that had been so violently ripped away from them and the younger ones. _Stop now, before the bad… rage… returns._

Tenniel raised her head up as the memories faded away. But her reflection left more questions than answers in her mind. _What am I fighting for now? Why am I fighting, when everyone and everything I cared about is gone? If I'm the best fighter in all of Ferelden, why couldn't I save them? _

She grabbed a twig off the ground and started making spirals in the moist dirt. The same spiral pattern she had scratched again and again onto the stones in her room at the castle, the same repeating patterns that had disturbed Nan and made the old woman mutter about being 'touched'. But she wasn't 'touched', not by a long shot. She would make the perfect spiral one day, and all of the people who kept saying that she had to save them and she had to do it 'just so', would all go away. Perhaps then she could run up to the mountains and live out the rest of her days in peace, killing dragons to calm the rage-thing that was always threatening to overtake her, its angry tendrils coiling tighter with every heartbeat.

Maybe that's why she had saved the assassin, after all. She was angry and tired and just not in the mood to see yet another life torn apart. Well, that, and the man was such a flirtatious smooth-talker. But at least he was up front and relatively honest with her, unlike her one and only fellow Warden. Terri said that everybody in her camp smelled like hidden traps. Everyone except for Zevran. The Antivan had told them he had been hired to kill them, that he had wanted to escape the clutches of the Crows, but expected to die by their hands anyway, and he was looking for a new beginning. His words were laced with colors of past sadness and much regret, but they had shined like truth.

She wished she could have a new beginning, one of her own choosing. Instead, she had been forced to become a Grey Warden and now had to grow an army out of nothing. The funny thing was, the same people who resented her reputation as a killer now gave her even more grudging respect, simply because she drank a few gulps of disgustingly rank, tainted blood.

How could Alistair not understand why she would be upset that he hadn't told her he was really the King's brother? Did he not realize how deadly the game of politics could be, and what sort of position that put her in? The boy was beyond simple-minded. He was a blind fool; first with his hero-worship of Duncan, and now with his refusal to believe that Arl Eamon would have nothing but the best intentions whilst making plans for them once he was healed and apprised of the situation. But she had grown up amongst the nobles and understood how things really worked all too well.

Alistair had betrayed her by withholding the truth about his parentage. It was his fault that she was in such a foul mood, and now he had gone and hurt himself, making her feel guilty about being mad at him. No, it was her fault for letting her guard down again, for actually believing for one second that someone out there could really care about her as a person and as a friend.

She wasn't meant for this. She hadn't even been able to mourn her dead loved ones. She was the very _last_ person who should be playing the part of the hero, pretending to be calm and polite and thoughtful. Pretending to care. What would they say if she woke up in the middle of the night and started killing her party members? So much for stopping the Blight. _Oi, archdemon! Come on up here and get us, 'cause Ferelden is ripe for the plucking!_

Tenniel laughed, wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her free hand, stood up and took a deep breath. She unclenched her left fist and looked again at the gaudy trinket, then faced downstream and threw it as hard and as far as she could into the creek. It hit a rock with a sharp cracking sound, and then it was gone.

* * *

Zevran was watching from the shadows a few feet away. He couldn't help but follow the woman, telling Leliana that their Warden seemed to be in a foul mood, and he was looking after her 'for her own good – just to make sure she didn't run into any trouble'. The mabari had seemed to bark in agreement; he had let the elf pet the top of his head right before he left the safety of the camp. _And a peek or two of such a gorgeous creature enjoying a bath wouldn't hurt anything either_.

But now he felt a twinge of regret for having witnessed her intimate moment. She looked so sad, and so vulnerable; he had almost given himself away right then. A woman like Tenniel should not be so unhappy. She had spared his life, listened to his bawdy stories and blatantly flirtatious remarks, and treated him as an equal. Tenniel had even given him a gift of the most perfectly molded little gold bar. _How had she even known I would like something like that?_ Zevran often marveled at the depth of her intuition and foresight. The woman listened to everyone, even that idiot Chantry-child's pathetic grievances. _Who was ever there to listen to her?_

For the past two days, she had become increasingly irate, snapping at the slightest thing. Of course, it may have been the lack of sleep and all the undead they had to slaughter back in Redcliffe, or maybe it was having to travel all the way back to the Circle Tower to fetch the mages and try to save that possessed boy, Eamon's brat. Today's episode with the darkspawn probably hadn't helped her already tenuous mental state. Even so, he hadn't been joking when he praised her blade skills and her bosom. He just wanted to cheer her up a bit, but it had backfired terribly, and now she was out here all alone and looking forlorn.

Perhaps he was starting to care a bit too much about this Warden. _But you gave your word._ The tattooed elf sighed and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind his ear, then stilled as he saw her stand up. Had she heard him? Zevran held his breath as he saw her glance downstream, her eyes glistening with tears. She threw a sparkling gold ring into the creek, and he watched it bounce off a rock and land in a crevice against two larger boulders several yards away. Then she surprised him even more when she started screaming at the top of her lungs. Just as she was pulling her shift over her head and poised to jump into the water, he sauntered towards her.

* * *

"What in Thedas are you doing out here?" Tenniel was so angry, she was past the point of pretending to care about modesty. She had spent too much time in the field with her soldiers the past couple of years to worry about it anyway, so playing the prim and proper noblewoman was not on her agenda.

"My dear lady, I was simply concerned for your safety. So I followed your trail and came running when I heard the screams. Are you….well?" He was having a hard time keeping his eyes focused on her face.

"Mmhmm. Likely story. Well, you can see I'm fine." She reached down to fill the wooden bowl with water, and placed the soap and a small cloth inside it. Then she bunched her hair up, twisting it into a knot at the crown of her head with a defiant glare at the assassin. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared back at her.

"Does the fair Warden wish to be left alone?" He stared at her luridly and tilted his head to one side with a smirk.

_Dear Maker, why does he have to look so sexy when he gives me that look_… she thought to herself. She stared back at him for a long moment, then slowly reached behind her back to unfasten the stays that were holding her bandeau in place, looking intently at him the entire time. He raised his eyebrows and smiled a little more, almost like a contented cat. Then she promptly turned her back on him, pulled her smallclothes down and waded into the cold, clear waters of the stream without even making a splash.

The forest was very quiet except for the crackle of her fire and the dull roar of the distant waterfall. "If you want to accompany me while I take a bath, you should get in now, assassin. The water is far too cold to linger."

"Normally I wouldn't be able to resist such an invitation, but alas – I have already had the privilege of having my limbs nearly frozen off once today. One dip into your frigid Fereldan waters is more than enough."

"Ah, so the great Zevran admits defeat at the hands of a refreshingly cold Fereldan bath?" She chuckled a little and stepped deeper upstream into the pool of water so her entire body was covered, then quickly returned to the side of the stream. _Never let them see you grimace._

"Never! I am simply sneaking off for the time being to continue the fight another day. And perhaps have a mage heat up the water for me. Surely you do not enjoy such torments?" He was admiring the way her taut, rosy nipples looked, and his manhood started to rise to the occasion as she lathered her body. If she kept heating up his desire, he'd probably have to take another dip after all. But for now, he would wait and see what sort of game she was playing. There was no point in trying to control his body's reactions. He always had done well enough by letting a woman know how much she was wanted and appreciated.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow as she caught a glimpse of the bulge in his breeches. But now was not the time to gawk. She dumped the remnants of soapy water onto the rocky bank and waded into the pool again for a final rinse. "Would you be so kind as to get my drying cloth for me, assassin? It's rolled up in the bottom of my pack."

* * *

"But of course, my dear Warden." He looked down at the strange whirl-marks she had scratched in the dirt, then quickly rummaged through her pack and found the soft cloth. As he unfolded it, he wondered why she was suddenly content to have him perform the tasks of a servant. She had adamantly refused such behavior earlier, insisting that he was another fighter and would be treated as such, which meant they would all have to take care of their own chores and no one else's. The Chantry-child had scowled at this, probably thinking they would be better off if the elf were relegated to the role of a weaponless servant. _Truth be told, that one could use all the help he could get in the way of cleanliness and hygiene._

She hurried out of the pool, shivering a little as she approached him where he stood near the fire. As he wrapped the large, warm cloth around her, she gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes, trying to savor the moment. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a few seconds and she leaned into him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Tenniel suddenly started giggling.

"Zevran, why do you smell like my lavender-and-mint soap?"

"Oh, that was yours? Then I apologize for not being able to contain my curiosity. I always wondered how you Fereldan noblewomen were able to keep from smelling like wet dog."

"Why, you!" She pulled her arms out from under the towel and poked him playfully in the ribs. He laughed with her and then pulled her close again. Tenniel surprised them both by wrapping her arms around him and returning his hug. She pressed her forehead to his, then kissed his ear and rested her head on his shoulder again.

"What you said earlier, before I left the camp… you were right. I always insist on doing things by myself. Perhaps it's time for me to let go a little and trust someone else to help_._ Thank you, Zevran." She whispered and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the warmth of his body against hers.

"There is no need to thank me. I am your man, remember?" The assassin wasn't quite sure where this was going, but he was starting to feel like he wasn't in control of the situation after all. At first he thought this would be a simple game of seduction, but now… he felt like there was more to this moment than just the desires of the flesh. _Perhaps it would be best if I just followed her lead for now._

She raised her head and looked into his golden hazel eyes. "No, no. I want you to know, I really do appreciate you, Zevran. You're always there to make me laugh, even when I'm feeling my worst. I apologize for snapping at you earlier."

"And there is no need for apologies. I did not have to hear you scream a little while ago to know something has been preoccupying your thoughts lately. Do you wish to tell your assassin what has upset you so? Come now, I promise not to stare luridly at you the _entire_ time." The smile he gave her was sincere and open, and she rewarded him with a vibrant smile of her own.

_This woman is an enigma - she curses like a sailor and feels comfortable walking around naked, but she acts like a bashful maiden when it comes to the game of seduction. She fights like a fiend, makes scratches in the dirt like a crazy person and knows how to direct each and every fighter on her team with advanced battle tactics. Well, if she wants to find out more about me, I'm going to return the favor. Because Zevran, you are either seriously blessed or seriously doomed. And this is one woman that you don't want to piss off._

Tenniel found she couldn't stop herself from talking as she dressed in clean smallclothes and a fresh shift and washed her soiled garments. He listened as she told him about the situation with Alistair and her own fears regarding Fereldan politics, and the expectations people had for her as a noblewoman. Zevran helped her get back into her armor again, slowly freed her hair from its knot and then kissed her softly on the lips.

The Warden returned the kiss eagerly at first, melting into him as their tongues intertwined. But just as suddenly, she stopped and pulled back a little. "Zevran. Thank you for listening. You are a good friend."

He froze for a moment but continued to look into her eyes. "Oh? A friend? What if the opportunity for something… _more_ should arise?"

She smiled at him again. "I'd like that. But… perhaps it would be better if such an opportunity would arise in a nice warm bed with four sturdy walls around us instead of a cold and dingy forest, hmmm?"

He winked at her knowingly. "Ask and you shall receive."

They would arrive at the Lake Calenhad docks soon, and he would do everything within his power to ensure they could get a private room for at least one night. Zevran was eager to explore his Warden's soft curves. It would be a delightful torment to watch her move around for yet another day, knowing he could not touch her until the right conditions were met and she gave the word.

Tenniel gathered her pack and the sack of clean clothes to hang-dry later and then headed back towards the camp. As they passed a cluster of larger boulders, Zevran stealthily retrieved a jeweled ring and placed it in his pocket. Such a trinket would fetch a handsome price and could be used to get supplies, after all. The Warden didn't like the idea at first, but soon assented to his wishes.

"You're right. I'll let you handle the haggling, though. I think that thing might be cursed."

"Nonsense. Curses are only transferred when you give the item to someone else. But I found it here, so you have nothing to worry about. I will make sure we get the best price for it, my dear Warden."

"Oh, I have no doubt you will. And, Zevran?"

"Yes?" He stared at her again. The sun's rays were filtering through the trees, making her look like a golden-haired goddess.

"I really _do_ appreciate you. From now on, I will always think of you every time I take a bath. Thank you." She laughed at his puzzled look.

"There's no need to thank…." Zevran started to protest.

"Enough of that, assassin. If I want to thank you, you should simply accept it… _if_ indeed you're 'my man', as you say, right?"

"I, ah… Fine. You're welcome, Warden."

"And it's Tenniel."

"You're welcome, Tenniel." Zevran smirked at first, but couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"There, that's better, Zevran"

* * *

Antivan words  
_Amiguita= _girlfriend


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Special thanks to my beta, 'varelishawt' on dreamwidth-dot-com. I decided to edit and add content to make the character's history and motivations more apparent earlier in the story. Since the chapters became quite long, each former "part" of the first release has now been separated into two chapters. Feedback is welcome. Thanks for reading, and thank you to all who've previously reveiwed.  
**Rating**: Overall story is AO, some sections NSFW. This chapter rated MA. _Warning for violence, and mention of past rape._  
**Word Count**: ~5160 (original version posted to LiveJournal on 30 NOV 2010)  
**Summary (AU)**: A very stressed-out Tenniel Cousland decides to vent to Zevran when she has a bad day. He decides it can't hurt to listen... or can it?

* * *

_**Chapter Two**_

The walk back to camp was leisurely and relaxing at first. Tenniel ventured off into a small clearing at one point to pick some spearmint leaves and they talked about crossbows and throwing knives as they viewed a flock of geese flying north for the winter. She seemed to want to take as much time as possible with him, often glancing toward him, smiling and sometimes looking thoughtful as he told her about his life on the streets of Antiva. They were almost near the camp again and could hear Terri barking playfully, no doubt running around in a game of fetch with Sandal again. The Warden stopped walking and looked towards Zevran.

"Can you… could you teach me how to be an assassin?" she asked warily.

"Hmmm... The Crows like to think they have a monopoly on the technique like it is some master chef's secret recipe, but I am here with _you_ now. So, I will teach you and tweak their noses a bit more. And it will be fun – yes, I will make it fun," he replied with a mischievous grin.

"Great! I am looking forward to this. We probably won't be able to continue on the road until tomorrow morning, after all. Wynne said it would take at least half a day for Alistair's femur to be healed enough for him to withstand a ride in Bodahn's wagon, so this will be a good way to pass the time."

"I could think of more…exciting ways to pass the time, you know."

Tenniel laughed at his remark, wondering if he would always look for an opportunity to flirt with her_. _"I bet you have quite a lot of experience in that regard. With women, I mean. And from the way you were teasing poor Alistair last week, I would guess men, too." They resumed walking at a slow pace.

"_Sí, _this is true. You already know my only rule about love-making..."

"Oh, yes. Something along the lines of 'it must be enjoyable', right?"

"Of course. But… is that a problem for you?" Zevran was remembering how closed-minded some Fereldans seemed. He needed to find out if the Warden would object to it now, before things got even more complicated. This was a problem in and of itself. Why was this woman being so difficult, and why did she make him feel so confused? Any other woman, lady or not, he would have already bedded her within two days. She was the one who had responded to his comments at their first meeting with a flirtatious 'bed-warming might be nice'_._ Here it was almost two weeks since his life had been spared - and still, no bed-warming. And yet, she was obviously attracted to him.

He enjoyed talking to Tenniel and sharing his stories with her, but it was almost as if she was really trying to get to know him and not simply being polite or courteous like the way she treated Wynne and the others. It was almost disturbing. _Why would anyone want to get to know me better? I am a killer. Surely she isn't interested in more than just a casual dalliance while we are traveling around the country…_

Zevran could tell there was something interesting going on. Yes, there was no doubt that Tenniel was attracted to him. She made that abundantly clear with the way she always made it a point to have him in her party whenever they were fighting and she asked that he place his tent next to hers every night with some pretense about her 'not wanting to have to walk across camp to wake him for his turn at the watch'. He had caught the Warden staring at him when she didn't think he was paying attention, and then when he made eyes at her, she would always retreat with a shy little smile.

"No, of course not. You're very handsome, and I know you've done a lot. I'm sure being so attractive must have helped with some of your assassin jobs, right?" She laughed again as she hopped over a small creek bed.

"So, the fact that I've bedded both men and women really doesn't bother you?"

"No, not at all. Should it?"

"No, it's nothing. It's just… you're a better person than most around here."

"Thanks, I think. But Zevran…?"

"Hmm….?"

"I'm not one of your missions. You're not a Crow, you don't ever _have_ to do those things anymore, and I… I don't want you to… become intimate with me just because you feel you have to."

"And what is that supposed to mean? Why would I _not_ want to ravish you, my beautiful Warden?"

"Oh, bother. Here we go again with the talk about me being beautiful. You don't have to say things like that, Zevran."

"Say what? It is the truth. Do you truly not realize how lovely you are?"

"Please. Stop. I know I'm not that bad to look at, but I've also been through a lot and I'm not some beautiful princess. I really do like traveling with you and you're a great fighter, and I meant what I said about you being a friend. So, please, you don't have to say things like that, not with me. Just don't." She started walking faster, not wanting to see his teasing eyes.

The Antivan wasn't about to end the conversation on that note, however. He sped up and stepped in front of Tenniel, grabbing her arm and making her flinch for a moment. That reaction confirmed his suspicions. She gave him a questioning look and he softened his grip on her arm.

"If I want to say you're beautiful, I will say it." Zevran looked into her eyes and experienced a strange feeling again. This Warden, the same woman who could strike down a dozen monsters, looked so vulnerable and fragile at that moment. He touched her face and spoke consolingly to her. "Who lied and said you weren't beautiful, Tenniel?"

She flinched again and quickly moved her face away from his touch. Tenniel tried to avoid his gaze and push past him, but he would not release her arm. "I… I don't want to talk about this," she told him softly but firmly.

"Oh? I think you _need_ to talk about this. I am your friend, remember?" He needed her to trust him.

Tenniel sighed and turned her almost-tearful green eyes toward him at last. "Do you really want to know? I figured you were the type to just bed someone and be done… no strings attached. Why do you care about it?" It seemed the entire forest suddenly went quiet.

_So she understands that much about me, at least_. Now it was his turn to feel uncertain again. _Why does she always make me feel so off-balance, like I'm some green recruit who cannot stay on my feet when blocking a blade?_ He really wasn't sure why he cared so much about this.

But he was past the point of retreating, so he pressed her further. "I care because you are so defensive all of a sudden. What is it you said last week when we were all wondering why you bothered to try and befriend the qunari…? 'Should I not care about what my fellow comrades-in arms are feeling? I need to know that the people who are fighting alongside me are at their best.' So, yes, I really do want to know." He threw Tenniel's own words back at her and saw her look of bewilderment. The woman shook off his grasp and crossed her arms, but she didn't try to walk away this time.

The Warden stepped back and leaned against a tree near the trail, staring at him for a few moments. Then she took a deep breath and it was his turn to listen to a story for once. He knew that being a noble was not just about easy living and luxuries all the time, but her story pained him to the point of anger. At sixteen, she had been betrayed by one of her brother's friends who had given her tainted wine at a dinner and had his way with her when she was unconscious…

* * *

_She awoke in darkness, her head hurting immensely as she got up from the bed and gingerly stepped across her room, feeling around for the door. Once she opened it enough to allow the hallway lamps to illuminate the inside, she fumbled around for a torch and lit it against the lamp outside before ducking back in to light the fireplace and a few lamps. She shivered and rubbed the sleeves of her elaborately brocaded dress. The blue, gold and maroon ensemble of silk, linen and velvet was rich and decadent, but it did little to warm her up. _

_Tenniel felt groggy, cold and sore. She didn't understand why there was a throbbing pain between her legs and she wondered where her smallclothes had disappeared to. The last thing she remembered was feeling extremely tired after drinking a glass of wine as the entire party took turns toasting and well-wishing her brother and his new bride. Tenniel remembered excusing herself and staggering to her room, leaning against the wall for support as she stumbled along until she finally made it to her bed. After that, everything was just blank._

_She wasn't sure what to do. The castle was quiet, and it was the middle of the night. So she turned on the tap to start a bath and left her room in search of Terri. He was always warm, and he always liked it when she let him sleep in her bed._

_Several minutes later, Terri whined and put his paws over the side of the tub as she washed herself again for the fourth time. Her heart was racing, and she felt scared for the first time in her own locked bedroom. Even more scared than the time she had gone wolf-hunting with Walter and Roland and had to fight with them against a starving pack of wild animals. Something had happened to her last night, and she knew she would be forever different because of it. There had been blood between her legs, and her menses weren't due for another two weeks. There was a sticky spot on her dress that Terri had sniffed suspiciously and pawed at after she took the offending garment off and threw it on the floor. And she was starting to remember things. Like seeing Robert Wulf's blurry face, and shrugging him off when he offered to help her to her room. _Did he do this to me?

_She started shaking uncontrollably, and tears were running down her face. Tenniel felt weak and tired and her stomach was hurting, cramping up… She tasted something like warm metal in the back of her throat, swallowed once and then bent over the stone tub to retch in a nearby bucket. This was awful. She felt sick and confused, and she felt too ashamed to talk to anyone else about it. _

_Moments later, she changed the sheets on her bed and curled up against Terri's warm fur. He put one of his paws against her back, trying to comfort his mistress as her silent and hot tears fell against him. She couldn't fall asleep, so instead, she talked to her dog._

"_He made me his prey, Terri."_

_The dog grumbled in response, and she squeezed her eyes shut, listening with her inner voice. Sometimes she could hear what he was thinking. It was a secret they shared. He taught her how to be calm and listen to the sounds prey made in the forest, and he had taught her what the color of a lie looked like, since her nose couldn't smell them like he could. _

"_STICK-MAN LIKE FEMALES WITH LONG YELLOW FUR. YOU ARE FAVORITE PREY. BE PRICKLY PREY. STICK-MAN NOT HUNT YOU AGAIN." He sent her an image of a hated porcupine filling his mouth with barbs, reminding her of how they had first met._

"_I hate him. I'm scared, and I want to kill him." She replied, thinking about the events of the past week. Tenniel had spent time with her brother's friends as they travelled around Highever. Although she often associated with them, she usually did it while training and practicing with the knights and other fighters and she always wore her armor and helm. Last week, her mother had insisted that she start wearing a dress whenever she was in the castle, and when she entered the main receiving hall that afternoon, she received lots of stares. _

_Robert had nudged her brother with his elbow. "Who is that buxom wench? You been holding out on me, eh?"_

_Fergus slapped him in the back of the head and the man spilled some of his ale. "That's my little sister, you dolt. Show some respect!"_

_The tall, thin man stammered and his eyes widened yet again. "What? _That's_ Tenniel? Andraste's tears, man. Blimey! She's definitely… err… ah, she's grown up quite a bit."_

"_She's still only sixteen. Don't get any ideas, you bastard!" Marcel punched his half-brother in the arm good-naturedly while Tenniel watched the exchange with a puzzled look._

"_Hahaha, you know what they say about bringing 'em young." Robert snickered deviously. The sound made her skin crawl._

_Marcel scratched his head and grimaced at Robert. "No, and I don't think I want to know what they say, brother. Is that why you've taken a fancy to elves lately?"_

"_Ah, I don't think I want to hear this." Fergus shook his head and rolled his eyes at his two friends._

_Robert laughed again, staring lewdly at Tenniel. "By the Maker! Her bosom's ten times the size of any elf's. You sure she doesn't have a pup under that dress?"_

"_Hey… I'm right here, you know. You drunken arse." Tenniel crossed her arms over her chest and glared angrily at the inebriated trio._

"_Such language! Come now, sister. You must ignore the boorish behavior of these men while they're indulging in spirits. How's about you go meet up with Oriana in the guestroom and have a look at that flower arrangement they sent us from the Tower again? And you look lovely, by the way." Fergus smiled up at her and offered his hand._

"_Uh, no thanks. Maybe later. Thank you for the offer, Fergus." Tenniel smiled back and squeezed his hand lightly. "I just came to deliver a message anyway. Father's asking for you. He wants you to look over some documents you have to sign tomorrow. I'll see you all later."_

_She felt Robert watching her as she left the room. _

_The Teyrn and Teyrna had invited all of Fergus's friends over for a wedding ball after he and Oriana were married. Her mother had insisted that Terri stay in the stables with the other dogs during the party because she didn't want to hear any barking that night. Most of the guards were still in the castle, but Roland and several other knights had been given time off to celebrate in town. While everyone's thoughts were focused elsewhere, she had been hunted._

"_I'm scared, Terri. I don't know what to do." She was used to being the outcast, the one her mother constantly complained about because she wasn't acting ladylike enough or she didn't volunteer at the Chantry enough. Tenniel felt most comfortable when she was away from her family, hunting or training in the countryside, far removed from their demands and criticism. In her mind, this incident had proven once again that she was a failure. She felt that they wouldn't understand if she tried to explain what happened; that they would blame her and say it was somehow her fault for getting sullied by that man. So, she decided that she would never tell them anything about what had happened to her that night._

"_WE HUNT HIM. WE MAKE HUNTER OUR PREY." Terri replied. An image of him biting into the jugular of a black wolf flashed in her mind. He bit down harder as its hot blood gushed out, shaking the creature and snapping its neck before it could take down any of the plump sheep he was watching. "I WATCH. WE GIVE HIM PAIN."_

"_Yes, we'll hunt him. I can't let him get away with this. I'm not weak. He hurt me, and he's gonna pay."_

_She remembered Robert staring at her during the entire ceremony in the chapel, and throughout dinner as well. Even Emily, the tow-headed elven kitchen maid, had noticed it while she was waiting on the dinner guests, and whispered in Tenniel's ear at one point._

"_Mind that Robert, m'lady. He's the one who forced himself on my sister Cathy, and a few others I know about as well. Don't let him get alone with you…"_

"_What? Wait!" She had wanted to ask Emily some more questions, but another guest had gestured for his glass to be refilled, and she had already turned away._

"_I'm going to kill that bastard, Terri. He won't be able to hurt me again." She squeezed closer to her dog. Robert had stolen something from her, something she was supposed to share only with someone of her choosing, when she was ready. Regina was the one who had cautioned her about the ways of men, since she was training with soldiers who were a decade or two older than her. Wearing armor most of the time and trying to look as plain and inconspicuous as possible still hadn't saved her from this outrage. "He can't give me back what he stole. I have to kill him."_

_Terri sent her an impression of him following after Robert's dark green leather boots, the bitter tang of the rolled sticks of burning tobacco he often smoked stinging his nose. Suddenly, he lunged and she watched with satisfaction as the man's head cracked against the flagstones, his hot blood spilling across the cool stone floor after the dog crunched through the bones in his neck. The man twitched violently but finally went still after more blood sprayed up across the mabari's field of vision and against the wall. "YOU REST. I _WATCH_. BAD STICK-MAN NOT HURT YOU AGAIN. WE HUNT SOON."_

_They hunted very soon. The next week, she had a long talk with Emily, the kitchen maid._

"_I'm so sorry m'lady. He made me do it. He said he'd take my youngest sister if I didn't put the herbs in your wine that night. I'm sorry, Lady Tenniel. Did he… did he hurt you?"_

_Tenniel felt numb; the only thing motivating her to get out of bed every day had been the thought of slamming her blade into that man's heart. Even Roland had asked her why she seemed to be in a funk. She shrugged his questions off, stating that she was just bored and eager to get out of the castle. When she learned that the kitchen elf had been forced to assist Robert, she didn't even bat an eyelash. The girl was just another one of his victims, after all. _

"_No, he didn't hurt me," she lied. "But I want to make sure he doesn't hurt me… or your little sister. Or anybody else, not ever again. Do you trust me?"_

"_Yes, yes, of course, m'lady. What do you need me to do?"_

"_I'm going on a hunt, and I need to set a trap…"_

_That evening, she was in an uncharacteristically amiable mood, chatting with her mother, father and brother in the atrium as they discussed preparations for their travel to Orlais in a few weeks. _

"_Hey, did you hear that?" She asked, tilting her head slightly._

"_Hear what?" Bryce asked, curious._

"_I don't know… something sounded strange, like someone was crying for help." She started walking towards the dining room._

"_In _this_ castle? What the bloody hell!" They all started running as they heard someone whimpering in pain._

_Fergus ran right into Robert Wulf as they jogged towards the kitchen hallway. The man's clothes were in disarray, and an elf maiden was lying on the floor, her face bloodied and her garments ripped._

_Tenniel fetched Nan to help the girl and smiled as she heard her father and brother smack the man around and order him off the premises and out of Highever by the end of the week. _Time to hunt.

_She shot him in the shoulder with an arrow coated in concentrated deathroot extract as soon as she spotted him on the path towards town. Panicking, he tried to run away, and that's when she sent Terri after him. The mabari chased the confused man deeper into the forest and away from town. Tenniel knew the forest hunting trails like the back of her hand, and she felt a keen sense of anticipation as she stalked her quarry in the deep woods. Soon she spotted him, dirty and bedraggled as he tried to cross a small muddy stream. Unfortunately for him, Terri's jaws were clamped around his shin and the man screamed in pain as he tried to kick the dog away with his free leg, to no avail._

"_Please! Help me!" he cried._

_Tenniel reached for her blade and looked down at the man lying there, mewling pathetically. She felt an icy thrill run through her body as she slowly took off her helm, and watched the shock in his eyes turn to terror as she swung her blade around menacingly._

"_It's you! Hey, you've got to help me up. Nothing happened last week. Come on, you're not that good-looking; no one will want you if you ruin your prospects by telling anyone that I… that I… took you."He started to panic again as she continued to stare at him with her dead-eye look, the one she usually reserved for idiot adolescent boys twice her size who tried to taunt her when she entered the festival contests. "No, please! Maker, no! I'm so sorry… please, have mercy. Please, please… don't!" Robert begged for his life._

_She thrust her blade into his crotch and listened to his horrified, high-pitched scream as he tried to curl into a ball. _

"_No mercy for you. You never gave me a choice. You never gave any of us a choice. Die, you filthy fucking piece of trash. Die like the bastard you are." She yanked her sword free and spat on him._

_Terri bit down hard and severed the man's shinbone. The mabari went into a frenzy, crunching through bone and tendon, ripping and tearing the flesh of the man who had dared to hurt his mistress. She finally silenced the man's screams by stabbing him in the heart, grunting with satisfaction as she thrust her blade through to his spine. His death gave her little contentment, but she found that she liked the feel of her blade parting the flesh of a man, knowing that his life was in her hands. She had killed plenty of bears, wolves, deer and other game animals, but this was the first human life she took. And she knew it would not be the last._

_Tenniel sat down on a log and looked at the corpse for a long while before kicking the shredded bits of flesh and cloth over and pulling her arrow from its neck. Her faithful companion gave a long howl as she walked away, and they both watched as a lone, half-starved wolf gave an answering call and appeared on the other side of the gulley, looking down at the fresh meat. _

_Days later, she expressed surprise when her father reported the mayor's forest patrol had found the remnants of Robert Wulf's corpse._

_No one seemed to show much sorrow or dismay at the man's memorial service. She overheard Marcel and Fergus talking as his remains burned on a pyre. "So much for bringing 'em young, eh?" _

* * *

Zevran looked at Tenniel as she shrugged nonchalantly and finished her tale, but he wasn't fooled by her attitude. He knew all too well about carrying memories of the past around. He remembered his half-joking remark to her a few nights ago when he told her to 'ignore the scars, and maybe they'll go away' and winced as he realized she also had metaphorical scars of her own that she was trying to ignore.

The Warden shrugged again. "And he said I wasn't very good looking, so I shouldn't hurt my chances at a good match by telling anybody what he did. I know _now_ that he was just being hurtful and trying to keep from getting into trouble for what he did to me… " _And of course, he was begging for his life shortly afterwards. _

Everyone else assumed that the noble had been mauled by wolves. Of course, she felt guilty and conflicted about it, so she tried to be the dutiful daughter and agreed to court another noble a few months later. That turned out to be a disaster. When Tenniel finished telling him about Lucien, Zevran couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"Dear Maker! What a fool man! Don't you realize what a buffoon that Orlesian was? In Antiva, your body would make noble princes throw jewelry and flowers at your feet and pay a king's ransom to get their hands on those gorgeous… melons." He grinned lasciviously at her bodice for a moment before returning his gaze back to her face. "But never by force, and anyone who would try to belittle you afterwards is no man at all."

That wasn't all, though. She renewed her determination to take up fighting because she felt so angry and disappointed and wanted to get even. At first, she had casual dalliances with some of the more discreet guards and even some servants in her castle. But as the years went by and it became clear that she really was a good fighter and had earned their trust and respect, she didn't want to keep doing things like that in secret, no matter how much she actually liked it. Tenniel paused and blushed when she admitted that.

"And why not? It has been five years since you were betrothed. Surely there were some who were as entranced by your company as I am?" Zevran asked quietly.

She laughed and smiled at him again. "Perhaps… but I was their leader. I learned the hard way, that I shouldn't become emotionally attached to someone I had to give orders to. And I… I had other reasons, other… responsibilities. Let's save that story for another time."

"Fair enough." he replied, satisfied for the time being. "As long as you're not going to lead a life of self-denial and forgo the pleasures of the flesh at the same time you're trying to save us from the blight. Traveling around with one chantry fanatic is quite enough. A body needs some stress relief now and again, you know."

Tenniel giggled and grabbed his arm. "No worries of that happening. Just because I didn't have affairs with my soldiers, doesn't mean I stopped having sex. A couple years ago, I was assigned to guard a brothel and became good friends with the proprietress. We'll definitely have to visit the Pearl when we get to Denerim. You'd like it there."

"Oh? Does this friend give discounts?" They both laughed at his outrageous comment.

Zevran was delighted to hear that the Warden hadn't let her first horrible experience deaden her feelings about lovemaking in general. He was reminded of the first time he met Rinna at a tavern after one job, offering to buy him a drink with the money she took from some shem's corpse that she had gutted. The same shem who had raped her during an earlier job… _No, I will not think of her now._

"But I'm not one of your soldiers, Tenniel. And I was _not_ joking when I said you were a deadly sex goddess. I am quite sure you have had countless others dreaming about you besides me."

"You… what? Oh, sweet Andraste. Thanks, but you're crazy. _You're_ the one who's beautiful." She lowered her voice as Zevran stepped closer to her.

"There's no need to thank…"

Tenniel raised her eyebrows, about to remind him of his earlier promise.

He now understood what it was about her that was keeping him so off-balance. Tenniel kept all of her secret fears and worries buried deep inside, masking her true feelings by being unusually thoughtful and polite. So of course, everyone seemed to like her. But did anyone really know her? She was damaged goods, just like he was. Just like Rinna was. Except this woman, this Warden from a barbaric country with such terrible problems wasn't just another victim.

She was a fighter, a born leader, and very deadly. And very vulnerable, skirting the razor's edge between obsession and insanity. Had she always tried to do everything so perfectly? He wondered if she had always been driven to be the best fighter, the best general, the best… perfect, polite and proper _something_, or if it was a more recent personality trait. He didn't want her to be polite with him, he wanted her to be raw and passionate and out of control. Even strong leaders needed someone to talk to, Zevran thought. He deduced that there was much more to her story than she was able to tell in those brief moments, and he wanted to be the one she confided in and relied on, so much so that she would never send him away.

The elf sighed and moved towards her again, putting his arm around her waist and leaning the other against the tree behind her back. "Fine. Let's revise that agreement, shall we? I will promise to accept your thanks if you promise to accept my compliments and start to realize that you really are a beautiful woman, Tenniel."

"I… I can't promise you that. I mean, I know I'm not really _bad_-looking. But well… you know. Achh! All right, all right, I promise, I will try." She slowly reached up to touch his face, tracing his tattoo very softly with her thumb as she wondered what miracle had brought this skilled, attractive, and very understanding man to her. Tenniel closed her eyes and concentrated, seeing the soothing blue and green colors that cooled the red and black bits of coiled rage she always felt in the pit of her gut. Terri trusted this man. He smelled safe and warm and his words were true. So she would trust him as well.

"Fine, that will have to be enough, then. For now." The former Crow closed his eyes for a moment and rested his head against her hand. _This is going to be a double-edged sword, Zevran. You cannot pretend with this one._ _She sees through to the heart you're not supposed to have._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Special thanks to my beta, 'varelishawt' on dreamwidth-dot-com. I decided to edit and add content to make the character's history and motivations more apparent earlier in the story. Since the chapters became quite long, each former "part" of the first release has now been separated into two chapters. Feedback is welcome. Thanks for reading, and thank you to all who've previously reveiwed.  
**Rating**: Overall story is AO, some sections NSFW. This chapter rated MA.  
**Word Count**: ~5570  
**Summary (AU)**: A very stressed-out Tenniel Cousland makes it back to camp and decides to give Alistair the cold, hard truth. What does this mean for Zevran?

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

The Warden couldn't believe she had told this man something about her life, and he had actually listened to her. And yet he was still here - he wasn't running away, or making fun of her, or calling her a slut. He was just standing there with one arm around her waist, letting her touch him. _Why does this feel so good?_ Tenniel reached out and wrapped both of her arms around him, and this time it was her turn to bend her head down a little for a kiss.

Zevran knew he had finally won her over when her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and then she surprised him with the kiss. He felt her soft lips touch his, and he couldn't resist parting them with his tongue. The former Crow groaned as he felt her body melt into his touch. He reached up and put his palm against the back of her head, thoroughly enjoying the feel of her soft golden tresses against his calloused fingers, almost as much as he enjoyed tasting her sweet mouth.

She pressed harder up against him and kissed him more deeply, going so far as to suck his bottom lip. It was Tenniel's turn to moan when Zevran slipped his fingers in between the seams of her drakeskin armor and started caressing one of her nipples through her shift. He started grinding against her, and that's when she lost all self-control. The Warden lifted her left leg and put her boot heel against the tree she was leaning on, encouraging him further as she kissed him greedily.

"I want you, Tenniel."

They kissed for several more moments until the woman started making frustrated little noises. She reached into the front of his pants and gasped."Maker's breath, Zevran! You're hung like a horse. What do they feed you assassins in Antiva?" Tenniel giggled seductively as she started to stroke his manhood.

"Mmm… much better food than they serve here, for sure..." He lost his train of thought as she gripped his shaft and rubbed her thumb lightly against the tip of his cock. A small amount of his seed escaped, and he groaned again when she rubbed it onto her thumb and brought it up to her lips for a taste.

"I want you, Zevran," she whispered.

"I cannot resist a woman who knows what she wants." But it was his turn to call for divine intervention when he heard something rustling in the path up ahead. His Warden heard it too.

She gently readjusted his length underneath the waistband of his breeches, and quickly switched places with him so he was behind her and also facing out towards the path. Tenniel reached for the swords that were strapped to her back.

"Who's there?" She demanded loudly and turned her head in the direction of the noise. The Warden's swords were already out by the time the interloper appeared on the path and announced herself a few seconds later.

"It's only me!" Leliana replied with both of her hands raised in the air.

Tenniel relaxed, and Zevran was pleased when she put her swords away and leaned back against him with the side of her hip. He wrapped an arm around her waist again and put his chin on her shoulder, peeking through her hair to peer at Leliana. Tenniel rubbed his arm and then grabbed his other arm to put it across her chest. _She's mine, now. And she wants them to know it, too_. The assassin grinned amiably at the Orlesian spy as he kissed the side of his Warden's neck.

"Hey, Leliana. What's the matter?" Tenniel asked as she put her warm hand over Zevran's slightly colder one.

"Nothing. I was just wondering if Zev had found you." Leliana seemed uncomfortable.

"Yes, he did."

"Uh, yes. I see. Oh, and ah… Sten scouted up north for a bit and says there's a group of a dozen or so bandits on the road ahead of us. Just wondered what you wanted us to do."

"Thanks for finding us, Leliana." Tenniel kissed Zevran's hand and reluctantly pulled away from him with a sigh. "Let's get back to camp, Zevran. You, Morrigan, Terri and I will go up ahead and get rid of the bandits first thing in the morning while Sten, Leliana and Wynne travel with the rest of the camp." She grabbed her pack from the ground again and smiled at the elf. "For now, let's get something to eat… and maybe you can start the assassin training when we return. How does that sound?"

_First she protects me, and now this… is she really asking for my opinion?_ Zevran stared at her in amazement for a few seconds but quickly recovered. "_Sí_, that's why you're the boss, _mi corazón_. Of course it sounds good." He reached down to help her with her supplies and started following her and Leliana back down the trail.

The bard had raised her eyebrows at his comment, and Zevran instantly regretted his lack of discretion. He had forgotten that Leliana knew Antivan. It was one thing to be a blatant, lecherous flirt. But it wouldn't do to have any of the party members think he was feeling sentimental about the Warden. _Brasca! I have to be more careful about what I say, _he thought.

Tenniel gave him a questioning look, then shrugged her shoulders as they walked along. "Oh, great. Now you're going to start speaking in Antivan again? No fair!"

"He said 'my heart' in Antivan. It's an endearment of sorts. A bit strange, coming from an accomplished member of the Crows, don't you think?" Leliana said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and suspicion.

"No, I don't think it's strange at all. He can say anything he wants." Tenniel wasn't sure where the bard was going with this conversation, but she thought it was sweet that Zevran had called her 'his heart'. No one else ever had.

"All I'm saying is that it doesn't seem very likely that Antivan assassins would have the time or luxury for matters of the heart."

"Maybe not. But he's not a Crow anymore, just like you're not an Orlesian spy. He's the assassin, you're the bard, I'm a Warden – and we're all on this crazy Maker-forsaken journey together."

"But – that's not what I….!" Leliana tried to explain herself further.

Tenniel had heard enough. "Look, Leliana. You and Alistair seem to be having the most trouble getting along with Zevran. But he is staying with me as long as he wants to. So if you have a problem with that and want to leave, tell me now. Everyone is free to go and take their own path."

The gauntlet had been thrown down, her words direct and firm. For once, she was not being polite. Both Zevran and Leliana were a bit shocked at what she had said and what her options implied.

"No, no, I don't want to leave. I… I… I just think you should be careful, that's all." Leliana stammered.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Leliana! He's been with us for over two weeks now. If he wanted to kill me, he could have done it a long time ago, right, Zevran?"

"Perhaps. You're a pretty damned good fighter, but I suppose if I had really bothered trying, I might have done the deed." He rubbed his chin and looked at the lovely woman in front of him with her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. "But it doesn't matter, because there are plenty of other things I want to do to you, and you have to be alive so I can hear you scream my name as you enjoy them."

"What… why you!" Tenniel couldn't help but start laughing again, and even Leliana finally relented, throwing her hands in the air and shaking her head in dismay at his wicked flirtations.

"But I am serious, lady! It's been almost a month, and a body has urges after all… hahahah."

He gave a deep, throaty chuckle that brought a blush to the Warden's cheeks as she remembered how close she almost came to satisfying said urges just a few moments earlier. Her smallclothes had actually gotten a little moist. "See, Leliana, this is why I cannot just let him go. He's irresistibly naughty and he makes me laugh, too."

"So… that's what you like… naughty elves who are good at killing people?" Leliana just couldn't stop pushing the Warden on the subject.

"Why, yes, I do now. It seems to be the best way to help us fight this Blight, after all." The Warden wasn't about to let the former lay sister put a damper on her good mood. They had finally arrived back at camp. Alistair was lying out on a cot and Wynne was resting nearby while Morrigan was busy stirring some potions a few meters away.

"What helps us fight this Blight?" Alistair asked with a groggy voice.

"Hot, sexy elven assassins, of course!" Tenniel teased.

Alistair frowned and sat up from the cot, wiping sleep from his eyes. He looked at Zevran, who was grinning from ear to ear and standing very close to the only other living Warden in Ferelden. The former Templar initiate's hair was mussed, making him look even younger than he sounded. He opened his mouth, about to ask another question when Terri suddenly bounded in front of him, jumping up to greet his mistress with a few excited barks. Sten followed closed after the dog and stood next to Wynne as the mage awakened from her nap.

Tenniel bent down to pet Terri, who was even happier now that she was feeling better. "Good, now that we're all here and awake, I want to apologize for being short-tempered with everyone the past two days. I have been preoccupied with my thoughts lately, but that is no excuse. Sorry if I've offended any of you." She made eye contact with all the members of her rag-tag team before continuing.

"Alistair, thank you for finally confiding in me. You know I wish you would have told me your news a lot earlier. I think everyone in our party needs to understand the dangers we face from both the political arena as well as the darkspawn. So I'm telling everyone, our dear former Templar is actually King Maric's son. Alistair is a genuine, _royal_ bastard." She curtsied with a flourish and smiled down at him with a teasing giggle, and he couldn't help but smile back.

* * *

Alistair covered his face and groaned in dismay while Morrigan made some snide remark about the future of Ferelden looking as dim as his wits. Zevran couldn't resist congratulating him on his improved status and gave him a mocking bow. Then Leliana joined in the hazing by grabbing her lute and offering her services as a minstrel to 'his royal majesty'. Sten simply gave a disinterested 'hmmph' and ventured off to tend to the ducks he was roasting over the fire with Bodahn and Sandal, while Wynne folded her arms across her chest and half-smiled, watching the antics of the young.

As the rest of the group set up their tents and prepared for dinner, Zevran donned his cured leather armor. He and Tenniel sparred for several minutes as he taught her his hand signals and many other techniques to find, exploit and communicate details about weaknesses in an enemy's defense and maximize their combined attack skills. At one point, he stunned her in the back of her head with his sword pommel and she lost her balance for a moment, staggering around in a daze and trying to see where he would strike next. She, in turn, demonstrated her master stealth abilities, astonishing him for a moment as she disappeared in the middle of an attack and stole his coin pouch.

When he blocked her next lunge, she grabbed her elbow and signaled him to stop. "I think that's enough for now. Don't want to get all sweaty before supper."

"Are you all right?" He asked as she continued rubbing her elbow.

"Yeah, just a little sore. A hurlock alpha hit me in the funny bone earlier." She gestured to the part of her armor that was strapped around the bend of her arm and provided padding for her elbow. "This damned elbow cop is a little worn, and I could do with a new pair of bracers, too. All in good time." She put her swords away and looked towards the campfire.

"You are very lucky that is all that happened this morning. I was… you had me quite worried for a moment," he admitted as he sheathed his blades.

She stopped and looked at him closely before she sighed and reached for him. Tenniel slowly brought her hands to his hair and tucked an errant strand behind his ear. "I lost myself for a little while, Zevran. And I don't think anyone else even noticed. Thank you… for being there, for taking care of me."

"Of course. But… perhaps we would improve our chances of surviving this quest if you didn't make a habit of such behavior, all right?"

"All right." She laughed, and they ended their practice session with a kiss as the Warden returned his money to him. "Don't forget, Zevran… four sturdy walls and a clean, warm bed. I'm a bit glad that Leliana interrupted us earlier."

"You saucy little minx!" He yelped at her when she patted his bottom and walked arm-in-arm with him towards the rest of the group. The two laughed as they returned to the fire for a meal of savory roast duck, berries and leftover brown bread from Redcliffe, compliments of Sten and Bodahn.

A few minutes later, Tenniel sat down next to Alistair's cot to have a quiet word with him. "Hey, how are you feeling?" She gently touched the splints over his right leg.

"Better than I should, I guess. Thank the Maker for Wynne. She's really a skilled healer. I'm glad you let her join us last week, when you saved the mages."

"Yes, she's very good. And Morrigan too, by the way. Her potions helped immensely. It takes a lot of stamina to heal a body that's been busted up that badly."

"Morrigan… helped… really?" He rubbed his eyes again and yawned. "That must be why I'm so tired. I'm surprised that bitch didn't try to poison me or turn me into a toad."

"You don't really mean that, I know. She's on our team now. But I'm not here to argue with you about apostate mages and such. I just want you to know, I'm sorry for getting you hurt earlier."

"What? You're… sorry? No, you didn't do this to me, Tenniel. The darkspawn did. It was my fault for not paying attention. I thought you were mad at me… and I… was thinking that I couldn't bear to lose you, like I lost Duncan. Not without apologizing. I know I should have told you about who I really was a lot sooner."

"No, it's all right. That's water under the bridge now. But I shouldn't have driven you so hard. Sometimes I have to remember that I've been fighting a lot longer than you have. And rogues like Zevran and me have an advantage with dual-hand quickness that you don't. So…don't think you always have to try and keep up with us. You're very powerful in your own right and can do more damage. Just don't get cornered by any more genlocks, okay?" She ruffled his hair.

He smiled, frowned, and then cleared his throat. "Hey. I've noticed… we've _all_ noticed that you've been letting that assassin get pretty chummy with you. What's going on there?" Alistair saw Zevran creeping up behind Tenniel as if to ask her something, and he wanted to see the look on the elf's face when he heard her say it was just a mistaken impression and she didn't want anything to do with that man.

Tenniel sighed deeply. "First of all, he's not just 'that assassin'. His _name_ is Zevran, and he's one of our comrades now. And yes, I do feel a certain connection with him. Does that trouble you?"

That was not the response he was expecting at all. Alistair frowned even more deeply, his brows knitting in disgust and anger as he clenched his fists to his side and raised his voice. "Tenniel! He's evil! He's… he's a bloody assassin… a... a murderer for hire! And he's an elf, and always talking about vulgar things. I… I thought _we_… I thought you and I had a connection! And, and you… you're a _lady_, and our leader. What could you possibly see in somebody like _that_?" He expected his fellow Warden to see reason and denounce the foul, corrupting influence of the former Crow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's just stop right there. You're injured, and you don't need to get upset any more than you are already. But I'm sorry, Alistair. You don't really know me very well at all. I may have been a lady, but do you have any idea how hard it is, to grow up living with so many rules, like you're trapped in a cage by them? To have everyone dictating how you should act, what you should want, that you should turn off all the feelings you have inside and just do what you're told… or else? Do you know what it's like to never be able to make real friends or open yourself up to anybody because if you ever dared to trust someone, they'd probably be there to stab you in the back later? Were you ever treated like a tool, or used as a weapon to kill and control others just because you had the skill and your superiors told you it was what you had to do, just to survive?" Tenniel stood up and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.

Zevran stood a few meters behind her, and for a moment, he almost wasn't sure if the Warden was talking about him or herself. _She really is very much like me after all._

The woman glanced down at Alistair, who looked pitiful on his cot, and continued. "Blast it, man. I'm tired of having to explain myself to people. Everything is not just black and white, good and evil. You say that the assassin is so terrible… well, what about me?"

"I'd like to think there's a big difference between a bounty hunter getting rid of criminals and an assassin. Don't compare yourself to a murderer, Tenniel." Alistair crossed his arms.

"I'm not… I'm not trying to compare myself to anyone, Alistair. But look… I've had to kill countless bandits and insurgents and even some hapless fools who were just on the wrong side of political struggles for the banns these past few years, and I'm good at what I do. Does that make me an evil person too? If it does, then so be it. I'm done pretending. And I'm not going to be ashamed about who I am or what I've done. I'm at the point where I just want to say 'go fuck yourself' to everyone, but we can't have that, can we? No, I've got to be the hero. We have an _important_ task to do."

"Well, if that's how you really feel, why'd you even bother getting off that cot in Flemeth's shack? Or… or saving any of those mages in the tower? I thought you meant it when you took the oath at the Joining, Tenniel. Or have you forgotten?"

"No, I haven't forgotten. You've got a point there. But sometimes, I don't know why I even bother. Just got to take one day at a time, I guess. Look… never mind, forget I said anything. I'm just in a bitchy mood, okay? And it's been a really long day."

"Really? Did they add a few more hours to this one without telling us?" Alistair tried to crack a joke and smiled when he saw the corners of the Warden's mouth go up. "We're still the last two Wardens here. The only ones who can do this. But I… I can't do it by myself. I need you." He started speaking low, almost in a whisper. "Didn't you say we were in this together, Tenniel? In Lothering, before the elf ambushed us… I thought you and I, we had something there."

She crouched down to meet his eyes. "I'm still with you, and I'll see this out to the end, just like I promised. I know things are… tough for you, especially since Duncan is gone. Everyone I ever cared about is gone now, too. And Zevran is the only one here who really seems to understand me. Even if he is an elf, as you like to keep pointing out. You and I? Sorry, Alistair, but no way. You're my fellow Warden and my brother-at-arms, but there never will be something… anything _more_ between us. I'm sorry if I ever led you to believe there could be."

Tenniel spoke the last sentence with quiet finality. Alistair stared at her, open-mouthed and speechless as she turned around and caught Zevran looking at her with raised eyebrows. She sighed again, shook her head with regret, and walked towards the other side of the main campfire to set up her tent.

Alistair glanced up at his nemesis with a look of dismay. There was no denying the truth any longer. "You're one lucky bastard." He sounded utterly dejected. "You'd better not ever do anything to hurt her."

"No worries about that, my young friend. Zevran knows a treasure when he's found it." Zevran ventured off towards Bodahn's wagon, leaving the former Templar alone with his thoughts. As the elf passed by Sten, the qunari waved him over for a rare chat.

"You are small, but you and the Warden make a formidable team, and I would not wish to fight the both of you. Women should not be warriors." The large man sighed and rubbed his stomach. "It is good to see she is taking advantage of your company."

"Ah, right. Ahem. I'm not quite sure where you are going with this one. Perhaps you've had too much rum?" Zevran put one hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side with a puzzled expression on his face.

The qunari belched loudly. "Perhaps. Bodahn gave me rum today after I returned from scouting and I seem to have consumed more than was wise. I will refrain from talking further."

"No, by all means. The rum does help keep a body warm. And speaking of scouting, the Warden sends her thanks to you for your work today. Morrigan, the mabari and I will join her at first light tomorrow to clear out those bandits ahead before the rest of the party follows us. She wants you to guard everyone else while they travel to the lake." Zevran improvised a bit, thinking about what Tenniel would say in his position.

"Then I will rest for the night until it is my turn to take watch." Sten rested his head on his bedroll and was already snoring by the time Zevran turned to walk away.

"Sweet dreams," the elf whispered under his breath as he ventured towards Sandal and Bodahn's fire. He fingered the ring in his pocket, eagerly anticipating the investigative negotiating he was about to do.

* * *

On the other side of camp, Leliana and Tenniel were busy helping Morrigan gather up all her flasks of potions, balms, poisons, coatings and other concoctions to put in a special pack. As they returned to the witch's tent, Leliana handed Flemeth's daughter a few silver coins.

"Haha! So, I was right? She chose the little bastard elf over the little bastard prince!" Morrigan laughed gleefully as she stuffed her winnings into a money pouch at her waist.

"Why - I am shocked and appalled! You ladies were actually betting on which of the men I would take to? Hmmph. I - never!" Tenniel feigned indignation as she folded her arms across her chest and stuck her nose in the air in a haughty gesture, but she couldn't stop from giggling, ruining the affectation.

"Truth be told, 'twas not really a fair competition. They have both been pining over you for the past week, but anyone with eyes could clearly discern that the short, golden-haired, pointy-eared one had caught your attention. Almost makes me want to vomit," Morrigan was quick to retort.

Leliana still thought Alistair had deserved a fair chance. "But the noble Alistair has been so charming and gentlemanly; I thought for sure he would win your heart, Tenniel."

"Awww… the poor, dimwitted boy must be crushed. At least he won't be able to try and hang himself, seeing as he can't even walk!" Morrigan continued laughing.

Tenniel playfully slapped her on the shoulder. "Hey! That's mean, even for a cold-hearted witch! I'm sure Alistair's probably in need of a good friend right now. Actually, Leliana – could you please try and talk to him? He pretty much forced me to give him the harsh truth, but I didn't realize that Zevran was right there behind me when I was talking. It had to have been a huge blow to his pride."

"Hmmm… you're right. It's bad enough he got injured today. And now this. Sure, I'll go talk to him. He needs somebody who'll listen to him… somebody who didn't just break his heart." The bard smiled ruefully and turned to walk back towards the main campfire.

"Yeah, well, don't rub it in or anything! The heart wants what the heart wants, as they say, right _ma chère_?"2 Tenniel blew her a kiss as she departed.

"_Tout est juste dans l'amour et la guerre_!"3 Leliana replied over her shoulder.

Morrigan and Tenniel stared after her for a few moments, and then looked at each other with a shrug.

"How goes it with that one? She seems odd, even for Chantry sheep, I'd say." Morrigan stirred some concentrator into one of her flasks and coaxed her fire to burn brighter with the snap of her fingers.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I already had to have an awkward talk with her last week about us just being friends. I still don't quite understand why she really wanted to travel on this quest with us, but it is good to have one with her archery skills. And she's not bad at the lute, either." Tenniel stretched and yawned. "Oh well. I'm going to take a nap before my watch. Do you want me to send Terri over to wake you up again at the crack of dawn?"

"You may, but 'twould not be courteous to have the camp smelling of scorched fur." The two laughed again.

"All right, then. Have a good night. And let me know if you find anything interesting in that grimoire!"

* * *

Zevran watched Tenniel unfasten the buckles on her breastplate as she walked back towards the main campfire again. If what Bodahn said was true, he would be able to buy both of them a very nice set of custom-made armor, along with a night of luxury in the finest room at the Spoiled Princess. He just had to play his cards right and sweet-talk that gem merchant. The dwarf had told him the man was a mercenary who frequently traveled between Orzammar's gates and the Calenhad docks

The assassin set his tent up near the fire and arranged his bedroll and a pile of furs to be ready when it was his turn to sleep. He then sat outside and started unbraiding his hair. As usual, Tenniel pretended to not watch him as she brushed and polished the grime from her armor. Wynne caught them ogling each other over the campfire and finally gave a disgusted little snort.

"Oh, for Andraste's sake – this is just downright scandalous. You could cut the tension with a knife around here. What's the matter with you, Tenniel?"

"What? Oh, nothing. It's just been a long time, that's all." She frowned a little as memories of Iona getting an arrow through her chest flashed before her eyes for a moment. _Why is it that all of my lovers have ended up dead, one way or another?_

"Oh, so that's your excuse for indulging in whatever it is you fancy now? Duty and obligation often require sacrifice. As a Warden, you'd better get used to it."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Wynne. But I'm not dead yet. I might as well enjoy what I can… _who_ I can, when I can." She continued to stare at Zevran as he combed his hair. The elf sat against his bedroll and the extra wolf pelts that Tenniel had gathered for him the previous week. She licked her lips as she watched him stretch out, and when he caught her staring at him, he gave her a wink.

The Warden nibbled on some spearmint and turned back towards the gray-haired enchantress. "Anyway, how're you feeling? You look a little haggard, even for an overworked mage."

The older woman sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "I probably shouldn't have pushed myself so much today. But we can't have the only other Warden around here crippled for life." She sat up and leaned heavily on her staff as she gathered some warm rocks near the fire.

"Very true. Thank you, Wynne. I appreciate you taking care of us all. Don't worry about your watch tonight. I'll take yours, and Alistair's, too."

"No, no, you will not, Warden," Zevran interrupted her. "Stop trying to do everything all the time. I will take one extra watch, and you can take the other, yes?" He stood over her and crossed his arms. The assassin was not about to take no for an answer.

Wynne stared at both of them for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I could certainly use the extra rest. Thanks." She ducked into her tent and left the two alone.

Tenniel reached out to take the elf's hand and gestured for him to sit down next to her. "I really don't mind taking the extra watches, but thank you very much for your help, Zevran."

"No need… ah. It will be my pleasure. We have to make sure you are also well-rested, after all. Would you like to take the first two watches, or the second set?"

"Whichever. Doesn't matter much to me either way. But the night is clear, and it's only going to get colder. You should take the first watch, and then you can be all warm and snug in your furs and bedroll the rest of the night. Look how cold your hands are already! Come here, let me show you a trick we Fereldan ladies use to keep our men's hands warm when we're out in the field." She grinned at him coquettishly as he scooted closer to her and held out his hands.

When she put them under her shift, his eyes lit up and he laughed deviously with her after stealing a quick kiss. "Mmhmm… these are very, very warm. But are you certain this is something _ladies_ do often?" he whispered into her ear, breathing in the scent of her skin mingled with the barest hint of lavender and mint. The Warden - his Warden felt warm, safe, and inviting, and he closed his eyes as he envisioned tasting her. He was very glad that she was already starting to feel comfortable around him. _Soon, very soon._

"Maybe, maybe not. I had to tempt you somehow, didn't I?" She closed her eyes and moaned against his neck, kissing him as he massaged her breasts until she reached under her shift behind her back and pulled out a high-quality pair of Dalish gloves.

Tenniel had been waiting for the right moment to give them to Zevran. She was glad that Leliana had been nice enough to help repair some of the more intricate stitching for her after she had found them several days ago, since she herself was horrible at any fine needle-crafting. She would forever remember the wondrous look on his face as he expressed thanks for the thoughtful gift.

"You remembered me talking about my mother's gloves that first day I met you?" Zevran put on the fur-lined Dalish gloves that were still warm from her body heat and admired the ornate leather.

"Of course! I listen to everything my man says." She smiled at him and gave him another kiss.

"Good. Then listen to me now. Go get some sleep before your watch. We are going to have to wake up very early, after all."

"Oh, so my sexy assassin is giving me orders now?" She stood up and put one hand on her hip as he gave her a look that brooked no argument. "Far be it from me to disagree. I leave the camp in your capable hands. See you in a couple hours, me cora-zone." She giggled as he blew her a kiss. Terri bounded over and rolled on his back to receive his last belly-rub of the day from both of them before the Warden retired into her tent.

* * *

2 My dear

3 All is fair in love and war


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Special thanks to my beta, 'varelishawt' on dreamwidth-dot-com. I decided to edit and add content to make the character's history and motivations more apparent earlier in the story. Since the chapters became quite long, each former "part" of the first release has now been separated into two chapters. Feedback is welcome. Thanks for reading, and thank you to all who've previously reveiwed.  
**Rating**: Overall story is AO, some sections NSFW. This chapter rated AO. _Warning for m/slash and flashback to Zevran performing services for a client._  
**Word Count**: ~3700  
**Summary (AU)**: After Tenniel Cousland lets everyone know how she feels about Zevran, he reminisces about his life before he met the Warden.

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

Zevran looked up at the cold, moonless night sky with its myriad of twinkling stars. _Like diamonds on a black sand beach_. _What the hell am I doing?_ _I should leave now, before I get used to this feeling._ So much had changed in the span of just one day. He couldn't believe he was really here doing this – pursuing the affections of a woman who was trying to woo him just as eagerly. An hour and a few sips of rum later, Wynne climbed out of her tent and stretched, rubbing her neck and shoulders again.

"You seem to be feeling a bit worse for wear, my dear mage. Perhaps you could use a massage, no?" The former Crow asked her.

"A what? Ohhh…no, no, no." She shook her finger at him, scolding the elf as if he were a mere child. "You keep your murderous little paws to yourself, you."

Zevran walked closer to the enchanter to reassure her. "No, I mean this in all seriousness. Tsk, tsk. Look how tense your shoulders are. All the healing in Thedas will do you no good if you cannot relax. Come, let Zevran show you how this is done. You can even keep your clothes on, if you do not trust me."

"Of all the….! I most certainly will _never_ be removing _any_ of my garments around _you_." She stared at him, exasperated for a moment, and then decided to relent when he just stood there with a patient smile. "Fine, then, since you're volunteering your services. But that's all it will be – a healing massage, right?" She followed him to where he'd been sitting in front of his and the Warden's tents.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course. Almost a shame, though. With a wonderful bosom such as yours." He removed his new gloves and gave her a devious smirk.

"Don't make me rethink this," Wynne mumbled as she lay down on the assassin's wolf pelts. He took off her cowl and placed it under her head, and she closed her eyes as he kneaded the muscles in her back with practiced ease. Soon, the elderly woman was sighing and moaning contentedly.

"Mmm… oh… that was wonderful! I feel… that was amazing, Zev!" she exclaimed several minutes later when he finally stopped.

"Oh, that was nothing. Are you sure you don't want the whole body treatment?" He was trying his best not to laugh at her as he remembered a time in a much warmer land a few months ago, where a woman had told him the exact same thing…

* * *

"_Zev, did you even hear what Master Zapata said before he left? We have to woo that Carlini woman!" Taliesen gestured emphatically towards the portrait of a rotund and outlandishly dressed woman that was hanging on the wall across from a deep crimson leather couch. "She's got nine grown kids, several teenaged grandchildren, and that bearded whale of a hag has to weigh at least 400 pounds. Do you have any idea how horrible this assignment is going to be?"_

"_What? Whoa, Taliesen, exactly _what_ are we supposed to be doing?" Zevran had just finished taking a bath and his hair was still slightly damp. He looked up at his human friend and fellow assassin from where he sat on the edge of the bed on top of a silken coverlet the color of warm caramel. A cool breeze was blowing through the open window, and vanilla-scented candles were burning slowly. The two assassins had already had a meal and gone through a bottle of red wine._

"_Manuel Carlini. You know, the man who paid us to kill the King's brother today, the one whose guest house we're living in... he's offered to pay the Crows double if we can give his wife a good time for her birthday."_

"_Ah ha. And what exactly does that entail?" He ran his fingers through his hair, played with his earring, and watched as Taliesen eyed him with barely disguised lust._

"_Hahaha, as if you have to ask! Apparently, news of both your skill and sexual prowess have reached the ears of even the highest nobility. And you owe me a favor for letting you sleep with that scrawny little elf-bitch last night. So guess which one of us is taking this job?"_

"_Oh, merciful Maker, not Lady Mariella! She's fucking enormous." He eyed a painting of the woman wearing a brightly-colored feathered hat and shuddered with disgust. "Brasca! I'll need some liquid courage for this one, my friend." _

_Zevran wasn't about to argue with the human. He had broken a rule last night by allowing Rinna to sleep with him after their lovemaking. She wasn't even a member of their cell, yet. There was no doubt that he would have to pay dearly for his slip-up, but he just didn't have the heart to wake her up and send her away; the tiny woman had looked so young, sweet and innocent as she slept._

"_I got you covered, man." Taliesen grabbed a crystal decanter of the finest Antivan brandy from his stash in the back of a cherry wood cupboard and half-filled two gold-rimmed, ornate glasses on a mirrored nightstand. He gulped down the contents of one glass, not even bothering to savor the exquisitely rare beverage. But he didn't swallow it all. The Crow bent down to kiss his partner and groaned as Zevran sipped it slowly from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around the elf and ran his hands over the man's tattooed, well-muscled body as their tongues met. _

_He broke their kiss, watching as the blond sipped from his glass and sprawled on the silk-covered bed, propped up on pillows, seductively tucking one arm behind his head so he was stretched out and on display for his benefit. "Such a shame, that you had to go and slip up for some skirt, eh, Zev? And now you're going to get plenty of it, tonight! Hahahaha!" _

_Taliesen gave a wicked laugh and nibbled on Zevran's earlobe as he took another sip of the auburn liquid. It went down smooth and left him feeling warm and relaxed. The perfect after-dinner treat, a delicious reward for a job well done. Almost as delicious as the sight of Zevran's sun-bronzed skin glistening in the candlelight._

"_Yes, yes, so I'd better go and get this over with quickly then. Hit me again, will you? I need to be in the mood for this… this punishment." The elf mock-pouted. _

"_Oh, I'll get you in the mood, all right. Come here." He grabbed the crystal decanter again, filled his friend's glass to the top, dripped some of the bandy on the elf's body and began licking a trail that ran down from the hollow of Zevran's neck down to his left nipple. "Mmmm… yes. You get to be the _young_ Crow while I relax and do nothing but live in the lap of luxury for once. Perfect night, for me."_

_He ran his fingers over the wicked-looking, curvy tattoos and kissed him again before moving his hands down the elf's thighs and perfectly sculpted calf muscles, lightly groping the man's hardness through his smallclothes. A smile came to his face as he rubbed his beard over his partner's crotch. "Mmm… already at attention for me?" He fondled the elf, roughly squeezing his balls as he freed his shaft from his smallclothes and teased the tip of his cock with his tongue. _

_Zevran smiled ruefully. Taliesen was a light-weight when it came to alcohol, and he was as quick and easy with sex as he was with killing. Easy to laugh with, easy to seduce, and easy to fool; or so it seemed. The chestnut-haired human was ruthless, uncomplicated, and enjoyed the finer things in life - a great partner to have around, even if he did seem to act a bit jealous at times. _Too bad he can't take all of my cock down his throat, _he thought. Not that there were many who could. _

_Taliesen licked the tip delicately at first, and kissed and suckled his balls as he stroked Zevran's shaft in his hands. The elf moaned encouragingly. Taliesen took more of the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around Zevran's head. "Oh, fuck, Zevran! You're fucking perfect!" He lifted the blond's legs up, kissed his thighs and tongued the area underneath his scrotum. _

_Zevran's hands ran over Taliesen's curly brown hair, but he resisted the temptation to push him further onto his massive, vein-mapped member. Blood throbbed to the head of his cock and he desperately hoped for Taliesen to open his lips and take him partway down his throat. Taliesen did not disappoint. He brought more and more of Zevran's prick into his warm mouth, his enthusiasm growing steadily with each lick and suck. _

_The taste of Zevran's hard, thick cock in his mouth was driving Taliesen wild. His own penis seemed in danger of bursting through his breeches. Suddenly, he stopped. The dark-haired Crow unlaced his pants and pulled both them and his smallclothes off with a flourish, kicking them carelessly across the room. He quickly reached down underneath the nightstand, hands fumbling to gather a slim glass bottle of massage oil. As he slathered some of the fragrant oil onto his member, he stroked himself a few times while he watched Zevran sip down more of the brandy. _

"_Now…. where were we?" Taliesen slurred his words and tittered giddily as Zevran sat up and downed the rest of his glass. "C'mere, killer." He reached for the elf again and resumed licking and sucking him, occasionally planting sloppy kisses over his well-muscled belly and upper thighs. Again, Zevran encouraged him, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting his body into the air at times. Taliesen finally started tonguing the entrance to his anus. "Yes! Gimme that ass… that sweet ass."_

_As the human positioned himself to enter Zevran, he placed his right foot firmly on the floor to the side of the bed… and promptly slipped on some oil he had spilled earlier. "Shit! No more brandy for me!" Taliesen had put his arm out at the last second and prevented himself from busting his head upon the hard marble floor. He sat on the cool tiles and shook his head a few times. The two laughed at his predicament before Zevran finally helped him up, stroking his cock a few times and smiling as he positioned the taller man underneath him on the bed._

"_Perhaps you should call it a night, eh?"_

"_Man, I am so wasted. But I want it. I wantsh you. Want you."_

"_Oh, really? Are you sure?" Zevran teased him for a moment, as if he were seriously contemplating leaving him when he was all hot and bothered. He liked messing with Taliesen when he was too inebriated to figure out what he was doing. It was the only time when the man really let his guard down, when he could take advantage of his vulnerability. And it was also the only time when he had ever gotten he man to take relax and take all of his cock up his own ass, since he usually balked at Zevran's large size. But their camaraderie wasn't faked. He trusted this man to watch his back, and he, in turn trusted Zevran with his life a well. They both knew he wouldn't do anything to damage him or his ability to fulfill their duty to the Crows._

"_Yes! Please? Pleasshe, pleasshe, _please_?" The human looked up at Zevran's handsome face and begged him for release. _

_The elf sighed. It was almost pathetic. Almost, but not quite. He wanted it just as much, and the alcohol was definitely starting to work on him, too. Zevran turned around and positioned himself over the man's throbbing member. He relaxed his muscles as the man's girth slid in, then tightened them as he slowly moved up and down a few times. _

"_Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, Zev! Fuck me! Oh, Maker, I'm going to... aahh!" It was all over in just a few seconds, almost before it began. Zevran quickly moved off the other Crow, gripped the man's shaft and massaged his balls as he splashed his seed against his belly. That had to have been a record in timing, even for Taliesen._

"_Great, now what am I supposed to do now, hmmm?" Zevran asked as he cleaned both himself and his partner off with a warm, damp cloth. _

"_Now you go gets some shuper-sized woman." Taliesen chuckled as he eyed the elf's huge cock and reached out to lick a drop of seed from his tip. He fell back and sprawled out on the bed with both arms underneath his head, looking tired, content and satiated. "Go have some fun and wake me up when you're done… tell me all about it."_

"_You sure we're secure here?" Zevran asked._

"_Fine time to be asking a question like that _now_! But yes, of course we're secure. I checked the entire staff out… the premise is on lockdown. You can afford to let loose tonight, pretty boy. Speaking of loose… get ready for Mariella and have fun. Lanzar una salchicha por un pasillo."__ 4__ Taliesen laughed derisively_

"_Fuck you! Thanks a lot, _partner_." The blond elf laughed, had a few more drinks, then walked out of their guestroom towards the main bedrooms of the estate. He swayed dangerously at one point and had to grab the wall to help him along._

* * *

_A few moments later, Zevran entered the lady's bedchambers with a raging hard-on, and was nearly reeling from the strong vintage. The woman's servants had bathed her and rubbed her down with fragrant juniper oil, but he was still having trouble contemplating where his treasured parts would have to explore. Even with blessedly blurry vision, she still looked like a huge, walking white whale. The rolls of fat beneath her chest were even larger than her sagging breasts. Plump folds of flesh concealed what was between her legs, which looked more like short, pale, sturdy tree trunks bound with pillows from her thighs to the puffy feet waddling across the floor towards the huge bed. She had no ankles._

"_Ooh ooh ooh ooh oooh! Just look at my birthday present! He's so _pretty_!" The large woman clapped her hands and rubbed them together with gleeful anticipation, flabby arms jiggling as she smiled at him from across the room. "Hello, there! Don't be shy, gorgeous. Come on over here and give mama Carlini some sugar! " _

_She beckoned him with one hand and started singing a silly little tune as her servants gathered up towels and toiletries and headed towards the door. "It's my birthday! My birthday! It's Mar - i - e - la's birthday!" She finally made it to the sturdy oak bed, the creaks of protest as she lowered her bulk onto the red velvet-covered mattress temporarily drowning out her coos of delight. "Oh! And he's happy to see me, too? Oh, joy of joys!" _

Thank the Maker she's already drunk too, _he thought. His cock was still rock-hard and he wanted release. An elven slave stared wide-eyed with open-mouthed astonishment at Zevran as he approached Lady Mariela, then closed the door and left the two alone. _

_The Crow was warm and tingly all over as he smiled down at the large woman sprawled out before him. If the Lady Mariela mistakenly thought he was pleased to see her, so be it. Thank the Maker Taliesen had prepared him._ Oh, boy, Zevran – time for some deep sea fishing.

"_Ooh, you little knife-eared bastard, you're so pretty it's a sin! Do you think I'm pretty too?"_

"_Yesh, you're pretty when I'm drunk. And I'm pretty fucking drunk." Zevran's vision was going blurry again, and when he closed his eyes, the room had started to spin. He shook his head a few times, trying to clear his senses._

"_Oh, my! What a filthy little mouth! Come here and put that mouth to good use!" The woman lifted her massive arms and gripped the back of Zevran's head. He all but fell onto her crotch. After he recovered and pushed himself back up with his arms, he began the arduous task of pushing the woman's gigantic thighs apart enough to get at the moist, hairy center in between them._ Well, time to get to work, Zevran. What was it that Fereldan fisherman once said..? Smells like fish, tastes like chicken, hold your nose and keep on lickin…

_He nibbled and licked her clit a few times and started fingering her as she lay back and shut her eyes. First two fingers, then four, then he watched with morbid fascination as he was able to curl his fingers together and slowly wedge his entire hand into her cavernous hole. He fisted her for several minutes until his arm started getting tired. Her vaginal walls were tight, warm and wet as they gripped his hand and part of his wrist. He couldn't resist stroking his shaft with his free hand after a few minutes when she finally squealed and started muttering unintelligibly, panting heavily and encouraging him to do it harder. _

_After a few more minutes, he stuck his cock into her and started slamming himself onto her well-cushioned body until his balls finally tightened and he grunted with delight. Zevran slid out of her at the last second and leaned against the bed to splash his seed onto the floor a meter away from them. He was intoxicated, but not too inebriated to break the cardinal rule that any elven Crow learned if they wanted to keep living. Never, ever ejaculate into a human. _

"_That was... mmm… oh… that was wonderful! I feel… that was amazing!" Mariella shrieked with pleasure as Zevran finally opened the door and stumbled back to his room, where Taliesen awaited._

* * *

Another time, another place… Zevran remembered how it was that night less than six months ago. Before the influx of exorbitant gifts from noblemen and women, before his boasts about making the Crows' coffers burst with gold from all the missions he and Taliesen fulfilled. Before it all went to hell and he had been forced to realize that he couldn't protect anyone, especially not from themselves. Before he saw Rinna's beautifully thick raven hair lying lank and twisted in a pool of her own blood. Before he stared back at her dead eyes and lost the will to live. _Yes, Zevran, it's all fun and games, until someone loses their head._

Wynne interrupted his reverie. "No, that's quite all right. But I'll be able to have a restful night's sleep now. Thank you, Zevran."

"Anytime, my dear enchantress!" he said enthusiastically. Zevran watched her go back into her tent and then got up to feed more logs to the fire. The elf started practicing fighting stances, exercising to keep the blood flowing. He walked around the camp and busied himself with odd chores, trying his best to keep warm for the next three hours until it was time to wake up Sten. The tired assassin watched Terri and the qunari wrestle for a few minutes before finally ducking into his own tent, and was shocked to discover all of his bedding and furs were missing.

"What the f….?" He noticed the back flap of his tent was open, and there was a barely discernible set of bootprints trailing from his temporary shelter to the Warden's. Curious, he crept to her tent and opened the front entrance. Light from the fire illuminated her comfortably sleeping form, where she lay curled up with his bedding.

"Tenniel," he whispered as he reached out to touch her sweet, soft face.

"Mmm… oh… is it my turn already?" She yawned, stretched her arms out and gestured for him to move inside. "Hey, I kept your bed warm for you." The Warden smiled up at him.

"I see that. And here I thought _I _would be the one warming _your_ bed." With a deep, throaty laugh, he began taking off his boots and armor. She made to get up from underneath the covers, but he stopped her.

"No, your watch is over already. Sten is guarding the camp now. Go back to sleep." He took off everything but his smallclothes, closed the tent flap, and slipped underneath the covers beside her sleepy, naked form.

"Zevran! You tricked me. You shouldn't have done that. Now you're… going to be… too tired," she protested softly, fidgeting a little as his icy hands and feet touched her very warm body.

"Mmm… wonderful. Guilty as charged. Now hush. Do you think your assassin would balk at standing a mere four hours of watch? Please, I have had to endure much longer periods of sleep deprivation when I was amongst the Crows, Warden."

"Fine, fine." She kissed his forehead and repositioned herself so that she was underneath him, and he lay his head against her chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt a deep sense of satisfaction as he caressed her sides. _Is this what it feels like to be happy? _He felt as if he had finally come home after a long, weary journey, as if he belonged there with her all along. She was so hot, her skin felt almost feverish to his touch. Tenniel wiggled underneath him as he kissed her chest and caressed the scarred but soft skin of her waist and hips.

"Go 'sleep." she smiled and hugged him again

The Warden was already starting to doze off when she heard him whisper very softly to her. "Mmm… the most perfect pillows." Zevran sighed contentedly. "_Gracias, mi Guardián_. Thank you, Tenniel." He went to sleep with the sound of her heart beating steadily against his ear.

* * *

4 Throw a sausage down a hallway


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

_The screams were the worst. She could still hear them screaming. _

_Her mother, Eleanor, was wailing as she held the still-warm body of her nephew. She kneeled next to the corpse of her sister-in-law, the decapitated body coated with blood and semen giving mute testimony to the brutality of her fellow countrymen. Her mother sobbed as she saw all of her childhood tutors and other castle residents slain, more sticky pools of crimson on the cobblestones. Even children weren't being spared. Why had her father not recalled the militia in Highever to guard the castle after sending Fergus and the soldiers away?_

"_Have you seen the Teyrn?" Her mother's tearful plea almost put the rage to rest, but it was still there, hovering at the surface, trying to claw its way out. It just wasn't as loud as the sounds Howe's major contingent of soldiers were making as they tried to force their way in the main doors of the castle. _

"_Roland, have you seen…?" _

"_No, I'm sorry. _Go_, Tenniel! You must get away, _now_. There's too many of them! Go!"_

_They hacked through more of Howe's guards, her mother's archery skills helping when she faltered at one point because she thought she heard children crying... past a wall of burning timber and a fallen column… she couldn't go through! She had felled dragons, killed dozens of cutthroats but this… she felt her heart turning black and cold, an icy rage running through her because she knew that no matter how much she had changed up in the mountains, she couldn't run through that fire and get to the guards' quarters. _

_Friends had died, people she loved had been lost to the Fade in her arms before, but this… this was _despair_. Now she understood what Roland's mother, Maggie Gilmore, née Maggella An Swannac O Peakhold, had said about murdered children. Avvars knew all too well about the harshness of life._

_Later, the numbness was almost comforting. She looked down at her father's lifeblood spilling on the pantry floor and knew that he was already dead. He just wouldn't stop talking yet. And her mother would die with him, the Teyrn and Teyrna together now as they seldom were in life. She listened to their grim words and looked down at them with detachment as the Duncan grabbed her arm, pulling her out, away from the clashing and the blood and the death and the fire and the screaming children. The screams were the worst. She could still hear them screaming._

"_Mummy!"_

* * *

Sleeping with another meant absolute trust - a closer intimacy than sex could ever hope to mimic. No animal leads a predator to its den._ Sleep with one eye open and a dagger at hand if you must sleep with another. Or don't sleep at all. _The Crows had taught him this lesson at an early age, and he hadn't survived three decades amongst them by being foolish.

Zevran awoke to her silent shaking. She was trembling in her sleep, her body curled tight and unyielding as she whimpered, caught in the grip of some horrid nightmare. He pulled her closer to him, rubbed her back and held her against his chest, trying to sooth her without fully waking her. "Shhh, shhh. I'm here."

He waited until the shaking stopped and she relaxed, her heart rate finally returning to normal. He wondered what it was she was being tormented with. Just as he wondered why he had decided to crawl into bed with her. Another rule, broken on a whim. _Zevran, you have broken so many rules in the past two weeks. What is one more? _He closed both eyes and let sleep claim him again.

* * *

They both awoke to the sound of the mabari's paws digging into the ground near the front of their tent. The quiet, excited little yelps and scratching sounds seemed to say, 'get up, get up, the new day is here!' Annoying, but better than any rooster's crow. His arms were clasped around her slim waist and she lay against him, her naked backside smooth and inviting as he pressed her closer and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin. The Warden ran her hands over his arms, letting him know that she, too was awake before she turned around towards him, rubbing her face against his chest. Terri stopped his digging and Zevran slowly opened his eyes.

"So, do Ferelden noblewomen always sleep in the nude?" He smoothed her hair and felt her eyelashes flutter against his neck. _Trust._

"They do when they get as hot as I do at night." She kissed his collarbone and began disentangling her long legs from him and the bedding, trying her best to ignore his morning hardness.

"And that is a very good thing. You're like my own personal fireplace. An old man could get used to that." He opened the tent flap to let just enough light from the campfire illuminate them and started putting his armor back on as the cooler air leaked its way inside.

"Old man?" She sat up and smiled. "You may be able to tell plenty of stories like one, and you might have a decade on me, but you're far from old, Zevran." Her countenance fell as she remembered what Alistair had told her a few weeks ago. She wouldn't be living for more than another two or three decades at most. _Will I ever be able to have a so-called normal relationship anyways? Perhaps it's better that he's so much older than I am._

He chuckled, letting her remark slide past without his correction. "Why the serious look? Are you feeling out of sorts again today?" The assassin started folding their furs into a neat pile.

"Mmmm… no, just a little different. I've never actually slept with a man. That… _you_ felt great." Tenniel drank some water from a canteen and passed it to Zevran as she began donning her underclothes and armor.

He intentionally ignored the last part of her comment. Best not let her know how singularly wonderful he felt. Not yet. "Truly? What sort of barbaric country is this, that they bed their young beauties and leave them to sleep alone afterwards?"

"Well, I've slept with a few women, just never… well, it didn't seem proper when I was at the castle. And whenever I was traveling elsewhere… Let's just say that's dangerous." _Dangerous for them._

"Right you are, Warden."

"And you? I would assume that the Crows do not often sleep with their lovers, right?" She brushed her hair with quick strokes and braided it up, wrapping it around the crown of her head so it would fit comfortably under her helm.

Zevran looked at her, wondering where she was going with this conversation. This woman was far too perceptive for her own good. "Right again."

"Not that we're lovers, yet." She giggled as his smirk.

"So… a few women, hmmm? Is that why you were flirting with the barmaid in that tavern back at Redcliffe? And you kissed that orphaned girl whose little brother you saved – what was her name..? Ah yes, Kaitlyn."

"Wow. You really don't miss a thing, do you?" She chuckled as she tied her bootlaces and began rolling up their bedding. "Were you feeling a bit jealous?"

"Of course not. I was simply wondering if I could perhaps join you… if you were ever to indulge in such an excursion, that is."

"Look at you! Getting greedy already! Tsk, tsk. Hmmm… we'll have to see about that."

The two worked in companionable silence as they gathered all of their belongings, took both tents down, and placed everything but one travelling pack apiece inside one of Bodahn's wagon. They ate a quick breakfast of gruel and berries and Morrigan met them at the edge of the clearing where Terri was already waiting, eager to venture out and explore the countryside. The rest of the party was just starting to awake as the sun came up, and Tenniel donned her leather helmet and waved goodbye as they headed northward.

* * *

A few minutes down the road, the Warden took something out of her pack and tossed it to Zevran.

"Here, I got you this. And you'd better wear it this time. We're too far away to take it back."

"A leather helm! But I don't…"

"It's not just to protect your thick head, oh great assassin," Morrigan explained wryly, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, Zevran. You've got to keep your head and ears warm. Even Morrigan and I are wearing one. So, no whining. I know you probably feel the cold even more than we do."

"Hahahaha. What can I say to that? Zevran does not whine, especially not in the presence of two such exquisite beauties. I will wear the silly looking cap." As soon as he put it on, he wished he had done so a lot sooner. The fur lining over the ear coverings felt almost as good as his warm gloves.

They continued traveling for another five miles, until Tenniel stopped them with a hand signal. Terri and the Warden had both frozen in mid-step. The mabari started growling, and suddenly more guttural, fearsome grunts could be heard coming from the area just to their right.

"Darkspawn!" Tenniel yelled, both _Oathkeeper_ and _The Green Blade_ already out and glinting against the morning sunlight.

"Terri, guard Morrigan! Zevran, they can't sense you like they can me. Stealth and watch my back. Now!" she shouted, trusting her companions to follow her orders without question. Two seconds later, a hurlock and three genlocks appeared on the path in front of them, two of which immediately struck out at the Warden. She blocked both of their dagger attacks easily, then deflected an arrow from one of the two additional genlocks that had erupted from the ground to their right.

Tenniel ducked as a fireball whizzed past her shoulder and struck the hurlock in the face. She kicked the hurlock in the side of its leg, dodged another attack from its shorter fellows, and followed up with a slash to its thigh, hamstringing it; at the same time bringing her right arm up again to block another attack from one of the sneering little genlocks. The Warden performed a dual sweep maneuver, grateful again that Ser Roland Gilmore's father had taught her how to be a rogue instead of training to be a warrior. She watched with satisfaction as she loped two ugly, stunted heads off their squat shoulders and their bodies fell to the ground with a thud, black blood spraying in a semi-circle over where she had been standing just a second earlier.

Zevran kept up with the Warden's quick, fluid-like movements during the battle. The woman was most certainly a practiced fighter and she could definitely hold her own even amongst opponents who appeared to be stronger. He wisely kept out of her way for the most part, waiting for his opportunity, watching her back as she quickly tripped up another genlock and stabbed it in its stomach when it fell, crippling it before she brought her right sword down for a final stab through its skull. She then chased after the hurlock who had decided to try and go for seemingly easier prey – her casting friend.

The mabari stunned the darkspawn for a few seconds with an eerie howl so Tenniel could get ahead of it, while Morrigan mind-blasted one of the genlocks who had decided to give up its corrupted crossbow and venture towards her with a dagger. Tenniel finished the dagger-wielding genlock off with a few slashes to the chest, then smiled as Zevran appeared behind the hurlock, stabbing it through the back and then finishing up his kill with a flurry of stabs to its sides and neck. The last remaining genlock was brought down and shredded beneath Terri's massive paws.

"We are ridiculously awesome!" Zevran yelled enthusiastically.

Tenniel grinned and raised her fist in the air in agreement, before her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, shit! Here comes a bloody ogre. Everybody, move your arses. Remember what I taught you last week! Zevran, mark this fucker when it gets close and follow-up every attack I give it that you can. Don't let it grab you and don't get in front of it unless you have to. Move, move move!"

Ever obedient, the mabari acted as the perfect diversion, nipping at the massive beast's heels while keeping just out of its reach as Tenniel grabbed a vial of concentrated Crow poison out of her pocket and re-coated her blades. The ogre now had its back to her, and Tenniel signaled to Zevran as she ran forward and stabbed it with both blades, momentarily stunning it. She was breathing heavily as she started attacking it with all of her strength.

The assassin performed a hand gesture and watched as a red haze enveloped the creature, clearly marking vulnerable spots that he immediately began to stab. But the beast finally shook off its stunning. It snarled and knocked the assassin back with a fist the size of a wagon wheel, cracking a couple of his ribs in the process and knocking the wind out of him as he was thrown to the side.

"Morrigan, now!" The Warden stabbed the monster in its chest and spun away a fraction of a second before an icy blast froze the beast in place. She wasted no time in taking advantage of the ogre's inability to retaliate and slashed it repeatedly. Terri also attacked it, snarling furiously before he ripped huge chunks of flesh from its hide and spat them out. Zevran recovered and sprang up to slash its guts, timing his attacks so that they landed precisely whenever the Warden withdrew her swords for another onslaught. Finally, the gigantic darkspawn staggered back, overcome by pain and excessive blood loss. Morrigan's freeze spell had worn off, but it had done the trick.

Tenniel ran forward with a fierce cry, jumped up onto the beast's crotch and stabbed it in its neck and eye, knocking it down to the ground with a hoarse scream. She stabbed it over and over again in its head, neck, and chest, giggling maniacally until finally, its arms flopped down and blood gurgled from the holes in its throat. The Warden was covered in dark crimson gore, almost as if she had fallen in a vat of chunky dye.

"Ah, Tenniel… I think it's dead now!" Morrigan shouted reassuringly.

Zevran clutched his side but couldn't take his eyes off of the horrid tableau. "Remind me never to piss you off, woman!" _Is she going to go crazy like that every time she fights one of those things?_

"Uh… Oh, sorry. I sort of got carried away there, didn't I?" She finally jumped off of the dead ogre and walked towards the rest of her party. "Are you alright, Zevran? I saw that thing hit you and I was… I got worried. About you."

"Nothing to worry about. I'm fine enough." He shook his hands at her, hoping she would drop the matter. No one in Antiva would have thought twice to ask about his well-being after a short fight like that. Her attention made him feel uncomfortable.

"You sure? It sounded like that thing cracked one of your ribs, at the very least. Morrigan, can you take a look?"

"No! No, need. Stop coddling me, Warden! It is fine. We Crows can endure much more than that." As soon as he said the words, he wished he hadn't.

Tenniel didn't let his slip-up go unnoticed. "Well, it's a good thing you're _not_ a Crow anymore, and you don't have to _endure_ anything. Come on, you know we can't afford for any of us to be in less than optimal health. It's bad enough Alistair's down."

"I suppose you're right about that." he admitted with an exasperated shrug.

She looked down at her gore-soaked armor and wrinkled her nose with disgust. "Andraste's ass, what a bloody mess!" The Warden wiped her hands and both of her swords on the dead hurlock's garments and reached for her pack. "We'll be alright for a while here. No more darkspawn at least. I'm going down to that little creek. Here, Zevran."

The former Crow caught a small injury kit bundle containing a strong potion and some bandages. He downed the blueberry-flavored potion in one gulp and turned to thank her, but she had already disappeared through the trees with Terri. Zevran sat and rested, grabbed up a large handful of dead leaves and used them to clean some of the grime off his armor as Morrigan gathered loot from the darkspawn corpses.

Less than five minutes later, the Warden returned, patting down her drakeskin from where she had rinsed most of the blood and entrails off. She walked quietly to where Zevran was sitting against a rock and tapped his shoulder, startling him for a moment. _Brasca! She's deadly, dangerous, and borderline crazy when she fights… and she's stealthy, too. Why do you always fall for the ones who could get you killed, Zevran?_

"Are you alright, me cora-zone?" She asked him.

"Of course. _Gracias_. And it's _mi_ _corazón_, emphasis on the last syllable." He gathered up his pack and swords and shooed Terri away, not relishing the smell of fresh wet dog.

"All right, all right, I got it now. You will have to teach me more Antivan. It took me about a year to pick up enough Orlesian to get by, and I didn't have such a handsome reason to learn that language at the time. Would you care to teach me a little?"

"Sure, I'm game. Speaking of language… tsk, tsk, tsk. Such words I heard earlier!" He shook his head at her and smirked in pretend disapproval.

She laughed mischievously and put her hand on her hip in a familiar display of stubbornness. "Oh-ho-ho! So you're going to berate me for using foul language now? Please, I know how to act and speak like a lady when the occasion calls for it. But in truth, I find so-called proper language and polite words to be rigid, impersonal, and downright impractical when I'm really trying to get the point across quickly. Probably hasn't helped much that I've spent more time with soldiers the past four years than in the noble court, either. So forgive me for being blunt, but I _really_ just don't give a damn."

Zevran laughed with her and then tapped his side with an open palm. Not even a twinge of pain. "You will get no complaints from me, dear lady. I would much rather be travelling with a blunt leader who knows how to fight and issue orders in no uncertain terms. And a skilled witch who is very good at making potions is to be appreciated as well."

"Aye, I'll second that." Tenniel nodded and turned towards Flemeth's daughter. "Find anything interesting, Morrigan?"

"Yes, I found two master runes you might be able to put to good use. Other than that, just the usual worthless, low-grade, darkspawn weaponry. But we can sell it or get it re-forged into something better, I suppose."

"Great! Let's wrap it in some of their rags and I'll scratch a note on that rock for Bodahn and the others to pick it up when they pass by here. Let's roll, killers!"

* * *

They walked uninterrupted for a few more miles through the sylvan lakeside, moving as swiftly as their legs could carry them along the path. At one point, Tenniel stopped and looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes with her hands as she attempted to scan what was above the trees.

"A Kestrel? Morrigan, did you see a Kestrel?"

"I do not know. Would that be an African or European Kestrel?"

The Warden scratched her head, totally confused. "I have no clue - what in bloody blazes would you ask me that for, woman?" She laughed and took her helmet off. "Do I look like an avian aficionado? A kestrel, a falcon – you know, any kind of bird like that. Have you seen one around here?"

"Right you are. Not sure what came over me for a minute there. But no, I haven't seen any birds larger than a sparrow today. Why do you ask?

"Oh, never mind. It's nothing. Just thought it might be an old friend."

Zevran was even more perplexed. "You have old friends who are hunting birds? What an interesting custom."

"No, no, no – never mind. Forget I asked. Must be my imagination."

"Whatever the lady says…."

"Shhhh! Terri's caught a scent! Wait here a bit." She smoothed her hair and put her helmet back on before she chased after the dog.

The mabari started moving slowly along the path and veered off to the east a short ways, rustling the underbrush as he stalked closer to a clearing where the bandits had made camp. Tenniel was nearly invisible, following stealthily behind him. They both returned after a few minutes, breathless and eager to give the rest of the party details of the reconnaissance. The Warden grabbed a long, thin willow branch from the forest floor and began making scratches in the dirt.

"Listen up…. This is what we're going to do…"

* * *

**_Last notes from an enchanted journal, bound with a blood-spell to a recently-murdered Orlesian mage to record the owner's thoughts._**

_I breathe in the cold air of this forested countryside and pause for a bit of reflection. Bill Borcher. My name has struck terror into the hearts of the Bannorn's residents for over a decade. I started early, once my mum stopped looking after me when she plied her trade at the tavern or the doxy house in Jader. Even threats of the worst torments on my Maker-forsaken soul weren't enough to keep me in the Chantry's foul orphanage and prison they called a school. _

_Back then, I had quick and nimble fingers, before I snatched one too many purses and gotten a few of them lopped off by the constable's goons. Then it was a life of scraping along, begging or fighting for or stealing whatever I could get from passersby. There was the inevitable stint or two in a filthy jail cell, or hours of being caged up and left out in the open like some sort of rabid animal. I hated that the worse. Almost as bad as the hangman's noose I had escaped by a stroke of luck and some twine with dry rot. _

_The idiots tried conscripting me into the King's army a few years ago, but thank Andraste's sweet tits I high-tailed it out of there as soon as the quartermaster's back was turned that night. Or else my corpse would be getting gnawed on by darkspawn with the rest of those poor fools. I laugh at the thought and cackle aloud, spitting some black substance out between my rotting teeth as I give my crew another once-over. Now I have a crew again, and it's time to get moving. _

_Doesn't matter if it's Ferelden or Orlais, both countries are all the same. The nobles, the commoners, the chantry, the crafters – they are all scared of us. All of them; with their neat, pretty clothes and neat, pretty farms and the neat, pretty brats they keep popping out. Ha! They all think they're better than me and my crew. But the joke's on them. For all their toiling and hard work, I only have to come along and take what I want. So who's smarter, really? _

_Butcher Bill, they call me. Butcher Bill Borcher and my band of boys. If they only knew there was a crazier bitch out there who was more of a butcher than I ever was. I still miss my first band, all tried and true thieves and cutthroats, just like me. We even had a couple knife-eared slaves back then. Before that crazy bitch bamboozled us all and went on a demonic rampage. If I hadn't gotten sick of tiny elven pussy and gone to the whorehouse that night... I still remember the way she chopped their bodies up into bits, methodically separating all of their pieces into piles, spelling out my name… she scared me, more than anything else. Me, a hardcore killer. And she's somewhere out there still. But now's not the time to think about such things._

_I prod them to hurry up, tapping my boot against a few crates for emphasis. Perhaps we've lingered too long here, west of the Bannorn. I've always spent summers near Lake Calenhad, accosting travelers there before venturing off to Sulcher's Pass. Even though it's taken me almost two entire summers to gather enough men to make it worth my while, old habits die hard._

_These sorry fucks had better hurry along, before winter takes the area firmly in its grip. Lazy bastards. Fat off of far too many easy-pickings from the refugees that are eager to move along at any cost as they flee the darkspawn horde. _

"_Move it, ye lazy whoresons. Cold season's a-comin', and there's fresh booty to be had in yonder parts." I yell at this new crew. They're as green as new corn after the first spring rain. The few unscrupulous refugees who joined us are going to have to get broken in the hard way. Just wait until we get to the next outpost and start burning villages down again._

_Shit. Did I just jinx us all? I hear a blood-curdling scream from the far right side of camp. Followed by a sickening crunch and the tell-tale smell of offal on the wind._

"_Aaiiee! Run! A giant spider!" One of the greenhorns yells._

"_Maker save us!" Aaron, my second in command starts to panic as I draw my sword. Fuck. This doesn't look good. If he's scared shitless, what hope do the rest of us have? Stupid bastards. As if the Maker was ever going to save us, murdering bunch of sinners that we are._

_Some of my men run past me, fleeing the monster that I can't even see yet. I hear their cries as traps and explosions go off. Traps? What the fuck! Is someone hunting us?_

_Too late to worry. A disgusting looking, giant corrupted spider appears in the middle of our camp, its fangs dripping with venom as it strikes out at a few more men, casually swiping their lives away with horrific ease. The cries of more of my men are snuffed out, and just as I prepare to wield my sword against this vulgar beast, a giant war hound knocks me down from the side._

_I look up and see, of all things, an _elf_ laughing as he fights next to a woman. They're slashing and hacking their way through my camp, my men falling before them like wheat under a sickle. The elf chuckles and yells to the woman, 'I love this game!' right before he gestures towards me._

_Something stabs me in the shoulder. Fuck! I can't lift my sword! I can't breathe! The smell of wet dog assails me as the mabari claws my side, shredding my cheap leathers to bits. Still frozen, I feel the burning pain as one of its claws catches on my ribs. I try to put my arms out. Too late, too late! Its jaws close over my neck…_

* * *

"Good boy!" Tenniel praised her hound, patting the top of his soft, furry head as he licked his fur clean.

Zevran admired the carnage and pulled one of his throwing daggers out of the shoulder of a bearded bandit that had been ripped up by the dog. "Perfect tactics as always, Warden. They never even knew what hit them." He cleaned the blade and applied a fresh line of Quiet Death to it.

"I couldn't have done it without you three. My stamina's all but tapped out from the last fight. Glad you had an extra acid bomb, too, Zevran. And your trap-making is superb."

"Yes, well, it's about time you started letting us help you more. No more… pushing yourself like you did yesterday. Your tactics are very good. We should do skirmishes like this more often, _no_?"

The air seemed to waver for a moment, as if he was looking at an object under water. The gigantic spider disappeared and the witch reappeared, smiling at Tenniel. "And I didn't even run low on mana that time. Very good, indeed."

The assassin finally relaxed and stuck the dagger back into its sheath. No matter how many times he saw Morrigan transform, her shape-shifting still made him uneasy. It was no mystery why the Crows chose not to work with mages. He watched as the Warden cleaned her blades and made her way through the dead men's camp, nudging each corpse with her boot. She stopped as she arrived at the man he had stabbed in the shoulder, fists clenched at her side.

"I can't believe it. Butcher Bill. It's really him. He disappeared into Orlais over three years ago after deserting from the King's army. Of all the times to return to Ferelden, he comes back _now_?" She laughed harshly, her words full of bitterness. "I guess he couldn't resist the easy prey."

"And now _he_ is dead prey."

All three turned towards the sound of the new voice. A sun-bronzed Dalish woman with platinum-blonde hair and a butterfly tattoo on her forehead materialized in between two oak trees. Zevran was already reaching for his swords until he saw the Warden run towards the elf with open arms. _Someone from her past, perhaps?_

"Jeanelle! You're alive!" She hugged the smaller woman to her closely, tears of joy leaking from the corners of her eyes at the intensity of emotion their reunion triggered.

"Creators' blessing upon you, _falon_. It is very good to see you well. Regina, Walter, all of us feared the worst after what Howe did to the rest of your family." Jeanelle held the Warden's hands reassuringly.

"Then… you all got away?"

"The three of us and the children, yes. We fought our way out of the guard's quarters with the babies while the rest of Howe's men were off chasing someone else. That must have been you." She looked up as Tenniel nodded, still holding her hands. "Roland… he fought bravely, but he was captured. Walter is taking the loss very hard. It's been especially difficult, since we couldn't find you, Ten-Ten. But he knew you were still alive, somehow."

"Oh, Maker. This is so… I was so _scared_, and _furious _when the fire in the castle cut me off from you and the children. After seeing what Howe's men had done to Oren and Oriana, and after what Duncan said..." She hugged the elf and squeezed her hands again. _This is real!_ "I'm so glad you're alive! But… we have to talk later. Where is everyone?"

"We're staying at the cabin, the one you used to train at. Remember the one in the mountains, on the west side of the lake, just a little ways south of Gherlen's Pass?"

"Yes, of course! I… I'll meet you all there later, alright? Please send Regina, Walter and the children my love. I'll join you soon."

"Yes, but wait, _Tenniel_! What's wrong?"

"Nothing. _Everything_. I'm a Grey Warden now, Jeanelle. And these are some of my companions, Morrigan… and Zevran." The Warden stopped and gestured towards her two party members, her eyes lingering on the assassin just a bit too long. Jeanelle caught her looking and raised her left eyebrow, a half-smile coming to her lips.

"I see. That explains much." The Dalish mage sighed and released her friend's hands. Answers would have to come later.

The Warden continued. "We should arrive at the Calenhad docks in a few hours. I know Kester, the ferryman only goes to that side of the lake once a day, and it's a bit pricey. But I'll take a ferry and meet you up there first thing in the morning, alright?"

"Of course. Mythal guide your feet, sister. We will be eager to see you." Jeanelle backed up a few paces, muttered a short incantation and performed a series of quick, graceful hand gestures. Zevran saw the familiar wavering pattern of some shapeshifting enchantment just before the mage transformed into a spotted kestrel.

The Warden shielded her eyes against the sun as she followed the bird's flight above the trees. "_Dareth shiral, falon_! Fly safe and stay free!" She finally dropped her hands and looked at Zevran, opened her mouth as if to say something, and then stopped. He gave her a questioning look, but didn't press her further.

"So… it appears you were correct, Warden. There _was_ a hunting bird flying above us earlier after all." Morrigan was the first to break the silence.

"Yes, yes, I'm not going crazy yet. Thank the Maker for small favors." She stared off into the distance, lost in thought for a moment before she bent down to grab the arms of a red-headed corpse, pulling it towards the bandit leader. "Come on, you two. Help me pile these dead bastards up and we'll turn them to ash. I've seen enough undead to last me a lifetime, thank you very much."

"I could not agree more, Warden," Zevran replied, remembering the stench and the horrors of their nighttime battle at Redcliffe.

It was clear she didn't wish to talk about anything her Dalish friend had discussed for the time being. The trio said nothing more until the twelfth victim was finally laid near his fellows, and Tenniel poured some lamp oil she had found from one of the brigand's crates over the cadavers. Morrigan cast a firestorm above the corpses and they all watched from a distance as the bodies caught fire and started to smoke.

"Do you two want to continue on now, or should we wait for the others to catch up before we go off to the docks?"

The Antivan shrugged. "Your choice, ladies. I am content either way."

Morrigan took her helmet off and sat it down next to her pack. "Well, I should probably stay here and make sure the fire doesn't get out of control. And t'would be a shame not to craft more potions and balms out of some of these supplies. It seems _you_ have more reason to go ahead than we do, Tenniel. Why don't you and Terri run along without us."

"No, I don't want to leave you two here alone if there are darkspawn about. Terri and I are the only ones who can sense them. Who knows how long it'll take for the others to get here."

"Nonsense! I'll set up a few perimeter glyphs. Is that not a sensible plan?"

"Well… alright then. But Terri should still stay here with you. He'll be able to smell or hear any other bandits or darkspawn before they get too close, and you can decide whether to fight or run."

"Yes. I will go with the Warden and make arrangements at the lakeside tavern's inn for the rest of our party," Zevran added, before Tenniel could try and refuse his company.

Morrigan raised her eyebrows and then smirked. "Brilliant! But the dog stays on _that_ side of the supply crates until he's completely dry. Is that understood, creature?" Morrigan gestured with one of her stirring sticks and the mabari whined in response, covering his eyes with his paws in a piteous display of sorrow.

"Oh, fine then! Come over and sit down next to me and I'll light this campfire. Silly mutt!" Morrigan rekindled the dying fire with a quick gesture, and Terri barked happily. "And don't you start with that! I can't believe such a stinking, slobbering creature…"

Tenniel and Zevran both laughed at their antics and smiled at each other. "See you later, then!"


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

They walked in silence for the first hour, until he could stand no more of it. "So, are you going to leave the rest of us in the dark about what's really going on with you?"

"What? I… ah, well. It's really none of the rest of the team's business, Zevran. Aren't I entitled to a little privacy?"

"Hahaha. Perhaps you should have thought about that before you let me slip into your bed last night."

Her nostrils flared and she clenched her jaw, trying to control her anger. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Come now, no need to be coy. Perhaps I should have made you scream in ecstasy instead of letting you sleep, _no_?"

"_No_! What does that have to do with anything? Dammit, Zevran. Why do you always _d_o that?"

"Always do _what_? My lady, I only asked a simple question."

"Stop playing games! You and I both know you've probably slept with hundreds of people before. Since when do you start caring about your lovers – potential lovers – personal concerns?"

"Hundreds? Hmm… yes, you may be right about that, my dear Warden."

"See what I mean? Stop it! I'm _not_ some mark for you to seduce and play word games with. For fuck's sake, Zevran, stop toying with me or I'll wipe that damned smirk off your face permanently!" She unsheathed her swords and advanced on him angrily.

At first, he countered her lightly with, but he soon found himself fighting in earnest as she easily parried all of his usual sword, dagger and dirty fighting moves. Tenniel knocked The Edge out of his hand with an especially brutal sword swing. _Brasca! This is what I get for trying to bed a woman I'm fighting next to every day._

All too soon, he found himself backed against a tree, his superior upper body strength doing no good whatsoever against her speed and skill at leveraging her opponent's own weight against him. He was breathing heavily as he found one of her blades against his free arm and throat and the other one pinning his remaining sword down.

She spoke so quietly to him, it was almost a whisper. "I _cannot_ afford to be weak, Zevran. They won't let me. Not my enemies, not this country, and definitely not the rest of our group."

"_I _would let you," he whispered softly, content to deal with her quiet rage, as long as she kept talking.

"And this is why you scare me, worse than any ogre or archdemon. You. _You_ are my weakness. I should have killed you and your pretty face when I could, before I ever got to know you better."

"Scare _you_? Which one of us has the other pinned down here?" He gave a throaty chuckle, then gasped as she pushed the blade just a little closer to his neck.

"Do - _not_ – toy - with me, Zevran. It can be a very deadly game."

"And here, I was being totally serious for once. I would prefer to be your strength, not your weakness."

She eased up on him a little, but still held the blade near his collar bone, her elbow blocking any movement from his arm. The assassin could still smell the concentrated Crow poison she applied to _The Green Blade_ and the cold emanating from it set his teeth on edge.

"Zevran."

"Tenniel."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Stop answering my questions with another question! That's quite annoying, you know."

"Hmmm… yes, so I've been told." He moved his arm just a little, and she let him.

"_Why_ are you doing this, Zevran? Why are you asking _things_… about me?"

"Because I want to. Weren't you the one who told me that I'm free now and I should pursue whatever it is that my heart desires?"

"Yes?"

"_You_ are what I desire. I want _you_." _There, I've said it. The same three words as yesterday. Will she even realize that they mean so much more?_

The Warden sighed deeply. "You may be able to pursue what you want, but I… the second child of a Teyrn never gets what she wants. And a Grey Warden especially doesn't." She finally stepped back, released him and sheathed her swords once she saw he had done the same to his weapons.

"I am sorry, Zevran. This… this is new for me. Yes, I want you too. I want to give you my heart, and that's what scares me. I'm used to killing things that scare me."

"I, of all people, cannot fault you for that." He looked at her, suddenly more afraid than when she had held her poisoned blade against his neck. _She wants to give me her heart? Dear Maker, this woman is most definitely insane. _He sighed, rubbed his arm and reached for her. The Warden did not back away. "Tenniel, this is new for me too. I have never been allowed to pursue something, let alone have something for myself. It is… in our nature to react strongly to a situation we are not comfortable with."

She nodded in agreement. "I apologize for letting my temper get the best of me. You always seem to make me lose control, you know that?"

"Do not apologize for something you're not sorry for." He squeezed her forearm, just a little bit.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're _not_ sorry. Admit it. Stop trying to be polite with me. Don't apologize to me for giving in to your true feelings. You _liked_ pinning me up against the tree. It gives you a thrill to show your strength, doesn't it?" He smirked knowingly at her.

"What the hell? Oh, you're… fuck. You're absolutely right." Tenniel brushed an errant strand of hair away from the front of her face and then held both hands to her head for a split second, looking up at the sky in a frustrated gesture. "Dammit! As much as I hate the thought of being some freakishly strong, tainted thing, I guess being a Grey Warden has its perks, eh? I would have never been able to best you a few months ago."

She sighed, grasped his shoulder and looked into his deep golden eyes again. "But that is no excuse. I'm sorry, Zevran. Because that is not how a friend should behave. So please forgive me, for that, at least."

"Hahaha. No apologies necessary. I cannot wait to see all of that out-of-control fiery passion writhing beneath me…"

It was her turn to smirk. She started walking onward again, so he followed.

"Warden. Tenniel. All I ask is that you talk to me, please. Do not walk around with all of this pent up… whatever it is… inside of you. As they say in Antiva, let the river flow. Do not try to dam it up."

She reached for one of his gloved hands, squeezed and released it, but still walked in silence for several minutes. They rounded another curve and started going uphill before she finally spoke. "I can't believe it, Zevran. My babies are still alive." The first trickle of words finally broke forth from the dam.

"Your… _babies_?"

"Perhaps I should explain from the beginning."

"Hahaha. That's usually the best way to start."

"Well, I saved Jeanelle and her twin brother, Gérard from one of those outlaw's first crews over three years ago. Those murderous bastards had enslaved and gang-raped both of them for three years, but nobody even gave a damn until the bandits showed up in the bannorn and started robbing nobles and killing off some of the human farmers. And that's when the outcry went all the way up to the Teyrn. Of course, I was eager to make use of my skills and so I agreed to help get rid of them."

"When we caught up with the bandits on the River Dane... Roland, the knight I grew up with - he went back to West Hill for help, since it was about a dozen of them and only two of us tracking their movements. But I - I couldn't wait another two days. Kept hearing her screams, over and over again. So I infiltrated their camp, waited until the outlaws all went to sleep that night and quietly slit their throats, one by one. The bandit leader, he wasn't there at the time. But he got caught the next day. I made sure of that." The Warden stopped to drink some more water from her canteen before continuing the tale.

"Ser Walter Gilmore – he's Regina and Roland's father and was one of my father's best knights until he lost his leg fighting a dragon - he's the one who taught me how to fight. And how to use stealth to my advantage. I was always sneaking around as a kid, you see. Always headstrong and stubborn, getting into mischief and making my mother and tutors miserable until he finally gave me something to focus all of that excess energy on." A torrent had burst forth, and the river was flowing freely again.

Zevran smiled, encouraging her to proceed.

"I found out later that Jeanelle and her brother had been kidnapped, and abused a lot. First, by the Templars who killed their parents when they were just small children in Orlais. When they were seven, another Dalish tribe freed them from the Alienage and they had some peace for a while. But then they were captured at sixteen by those filthy bandits. When I rescued them, I told them they were free to go, but they wouldn't leave. And I wanted to protect them." The warden paused to get their bearings as they came to a fork in the road.

Zevran nodded, completely understanding her feelings about wanting to protect someone. Hadn't he wished he could have done the same thing with Rinna? For once, thoughts of her didn't make him ache with regret. He almost came close to telling the Warden about the real reason why he had left Antiva. _No, now is not the right time._

Tenniel surprised him by reaching for his hand again, this time holding on. He smiled at her, glad to see that she felt comfortable enough with him to behave in such a way, as if they were already lovers or very close friends.

"It probably sounds strange to most people that I would even care. They were Dalish, but their tribe was gone, and who else would take them in? I mean, Jeanelle – she wouldn't even hurt a flea, not to save her life. Yes, she can shapeshift, but other than that, she only knows a bit of healing magic and she knows how to hide all of it. There was _no way_ I was going to turn them in to the Chantry, just so they could be caged again for the rest of their lives. So I brought them with me to Highever, and Ser Walter agreed to open up his home in town to them."

"Wouldn't you know, Regina and Jeanelle fell in love. And Gérard… he was so sweet, and just glad that his sister was finally happy and safe for once. But he was broken. He was always jumpy, and skittish, and he had such sad, sad eyes. I couldn't even tell that he and Jeanelle were older than me, they both looked and acted so young. I would visit Ser Walter's house every day I could for dual weapons training, and one time I caught him crying and he was just so…beautiful. I couldn't help but try and comfort him. Can you imagine me, falling for a softy?" Tenniel laughed ruefully at herself.

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Zevran replied. The Warden narrowed her eyes and looked harder at him for a moment. Had he heard what Morrigan, Leliana and she had been discussing the previous night?

"I… suppose. He seemed happier at first, and I really, really loved to see him smile when I kissed him. Gérard wasn't just a fling. He was the only man I had… opened my heart to since Lucien. But it didn't matter. It wasn't enough. _I _wasn't enough. Or he was too weak inside. I don't really know. He killed himself the day after we made love. Drank a massive quantity of venom and died while his sister and I held him in our arms, once we saw the empty vials and realized what he had done." She stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "Can you imagine what Jeanelle must have felt?"

"She probably knew better than most what her brother was going through. It seems as if she's made peace with it," Zevran answered. _But have you made peace with it, my dear Tenniel? What a tragedy._

"Yes, you're… very insightful, as always, Zevran. I think she, more than anyone else, probably knew what he was struggling with. Our one little night of indiscretion was just his fond farewell to the world. And I really got the parting gift. Because he got me pregnant. With twins, no less."

They both stopped walking as the assassin reached for Tenniel's waist and pulled her close. "What a _scandal_! The Teyrn's daughter, betrothed to an Orlesian Duke's son, gets impregnated – and by an _elf,_ no less? Tsk, tsk. Such a wild one, you are!" He laughed when he saw that his words made her smile.

"Yes, you got the gist of it. I _was_ wild. But I was also very scared. I knew that my actions could literally start a war. If the Orlesians ever found out I'd been disgraced like that and thought that my father had been intentionally neglectful with protecting my virtue, that is. Stupid men and their stupid egos. I was just a piece of merchandise."

"What did you do?" They were nearing the densest expanse of evergreen trees and Zevran inhaled the scent of pines. It wouldn't be long before they'd be able to see the Circle Tower in the distance again.

"There was no way I was getting rid of those babies. I… I just couldn't. Regina, Jeanelle and I were going to run away to Jader. I was eighteen, they were nineteen and twenty-two; we probably could have made some sort of livelihood for ourselves. Luckily, Ser Walter found out about our foolhardy plan and came up with a better one. He told my parents that I was a very promising rogue and he wanted to send me to the lakeside for special advanced training, away from the distractions of the castle. My mother didn't like the idea at first, but I insisted. Kept reminding her that if I was going to have to go off and marry an Orlesian, the least she could do was let me be a true Fereldan warrior woman for a short while."

"And she bought that?" Zevran was quite shocked that the Warden hadn't taken some herbs to solve her problem, like so many other nobles and others did. This woman just kept on surprising him.

"Of course! Well, that, and my nephew, Oren was a big help. She finally had someone else to dote over. So we left, and I actually did train for a while, until I got too big to wear proper armor and too tired to wield two swords for more than a few minutes. Damned kids made it hard to breath and all. But you know what was the worst?" She looked toward the golden-haired elf and smiled.

"Hmmm, what?"

"Well, other than the childbirth, that is. I had to bind my breasts. You know, because I couldn't nurse, not if I wanted to keep the whole thing a secret. Hurt like a sonofabitch. I mean, my chest was plenty big enough already." She saw his bemused expression and started to laugh. "Hahah! I won't bore you with the details."

"Whatever you say, Warden." He tried to contain his laughter at the thought of her having to wrap her bosom down. She fidgeted enough with armor that was just a bit too snug.

"Yeah, anyway. We lived on the mountainous side of the lake for about a year. Regina and I didn't venture into any towns or go to the docks for the last six months of my pregnancy, so when it was all over we had everybody convinced that Kayla and Darren were Regina's children, not mine. We even had a wet nurse lined up for us from Highever, and she was none the wiser, either."

"So, am I now privy to a state secret?"

"Hmmph! Hardly! When I was a noblewoman, I knew my children would be loved and taken care of very well by Regina and Jeanelle, and even Ser Walter, their surrogate grandfather. I did everything - took all sorts of jobs and contracts to make sure they had a nice house and all the amenities when they got back to Highever. But I didn't want them involved in any fights over titles or any other political struggles. That's why I never told my parents or anyone else about them, not even after the Duke's son was assassinated for ticking off the wrong somebody and I no longer had to worry about keeping up appearances. And I'm still not going to tell a soul about them, now that I'm a Grey Warden. Other than you, that is. I suppose it's just hard for me to trust anyone. "

"Who, _you_? Here I thought you slept with a knife under your pillow just in case you wanted a slice of cheese in the middle of the night."

"Wha…hahaha! So you noticed that, too? Cheese? Argghh! Please don't lump me in with the likes of Alistair and other gassy, cheese-loving dimwits. Did I just say dimwits? I've been hanging around Morrigan too long…" They both removed their leather helms and took turns slipping them into each other's backpacks as the ground started to slope downwards at a sharp angle.

"So, what now, my dear Warden?"

"Good question, Zevran. Been thinking about that for a while, ever since we met Jeanelle today. Now… _now_ I've got a reason to keep doing this. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we survive this winter, even if it means selling the Cousland sword and shield. As for our wonderful little band of heroes, well - we still have an army to raise, a blight to stop, and a nation to patch up from this ridiculous civil war. My children are my main incentive. They're the future, after all. It doesn't matter to me if they call me Ten-Ten instead of mum. I'll just try to keep them safe by doing what I do best – killing monsters."

"A very noble sentiment, Warden. I've a question, if I may." Zevran reached for her hand and looked into her eyes as she descended the hill towards the docks.

"If you may? What is this nonsense? Zevran, you know you can ask me anything you want to. Please, go ahead."

"Well, here's the thing. I swore and oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you are on, and this is all very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with. As a point of curiosity."

"As a point of _curiosity_? Zevran, I would _never_ try and make you do anything you didn't want to." Tenniel sighed and looked into the bright blue sky over the lake, with its puffy white clouds drifting idly by the Circle Tower. She stared back into his eyes and gave him a sad little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes at all. "Is this after I ravish you in celebration?"

"Of course it is afterwards. The ravishing part is a given. One simply assumes that, once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?"

"I'll not hold you to any oath. Leave whenever you like, _mi corazón_." She put her head down, determined to be strong and not let him see how hurt she would feel if that happened. She tried to pull her arm away, anticipating that would be the end of the conversation. But the assassin was not letting her go just yet.

"Oh? I made the oath willingly, but if that's how you see it, then all the better. For the moment, it's still best I stay, considering my standing with the Crows." He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye again. "But let's assume that I _didn't_ desire to leave when the time came. What then?" Her eyes widened, and he squeezed her warm hand a little, reassuring her. _My Tenniel, my Warden. You are so strong, and yet so very, very soft. You give me your trust, you tell me your dearest secrets and you expect me not to care for you? No wonder you are so crazy._

Tenniel tried not to show how glad those words made her feel, but her eyes gave her away. "I could always use a friend." She wasn't sure of what else to say to that.

"Oh? Not… _more_ than friends?"

Her smile widened, and her pupils dilated as he moved closer. "I'd like that."

"So would I, I should think." He kissed her softly on the lips. Before they knew it, several minutes had passed and a crazy old scavenger lingering by the side of the wall started cat-calling them as they stood in the middle of the road and exchanged kisses. They both laughed at the interruption and Zevran finally released her hand.

"It is good to know what my options might be. But that is for another time. For now, we have much to do, yes?"

"_Si_! I will go fetch these mages to help us with Connor's situation, and also try to line up a ferry to get us to my family on the northwestern shore. You will come with me to meet them later, right?

"_Por supuesto_ – of course, _mi corazón_."

"_Gracias_. I'll meet you at The Spoiled Princess in a couple hours for the midday meal – all right?"

"_Si, muy bien; _that means 'very good'. _Hasta luego_ – 'until later'," he replied. His Warden was becoming even more interesting the more he got to know her. Zevran couldn't wait to start teaching her Antivan pillow talk. He chuckled to himself as he went to look for the gem merchant.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

_Yusaris_. Its bright, keen edges almost blinded as they reflected the light of the noonday sun. The Warden laid the greatsword against her shoulder, stepped off the ferry and watched as Sten helped Alistair down from the wagon. Bodahn and Leliana helped him hobble down the hillside with his crutch, while Morrigan and Wynne waved at her from across the beach and moved towards her. She waved back before reaching down and dragging her pack and a large burlap bag from the boat. Sandal ran over with Terri, eager to help Tenniel with her burden.

"Hey, look what I've got, Sandal!" She reached into her coat pocket and showed him several runes.

"Enchantment?"

"You betcha!"

"Enchantment!"

"What have we here?" Morrigan pointed to the large sack of goods.

Wynne crossed her arms and eyed Tenniel's fancy green dress gown and ankle-length wool coat with fur trim. "Yes, and why are you dressed so… nicely? Is there some special occasion we weren't aware of?"

"No, no. These are just extra supplies the Mages have graciously donated to us. We'll go through them later. And Petra, Keili and Kinnon insisted on helping me tidy up after that battle with Shah Wyrd – a rage demon that popped up near the basement doors of the tower."

"_Another_ demon? How many of those things did we kill? Just like rats, you think you've got them all and another one pops up out of some hole. I bet it gave those foolish templars a scare." Morrigan chuckled.

"Yes, well, I'm glad the templars' focus was elsewhere, or they might have overreacted and killed more mages. My armor got pretty scorched when we were fighting it, so Petra gave me these clothes to wear until the quartermaster was done with the repairs. Since they're warm and comfortable and I don't anticipate any more battles today, I figured I'd keep them on. And you were most definitely right, Wynne. I shouldn't have followed what those apprentice notes said about Watchguard of the Reaching when we were fighting demons last week."

"Hmmph. As if it's ever a good idea to follow _anything_ apprentices write down."

"Yes, but at least I recovered this wonderful blade. Hey, Sten! Come take a look!" Tenniel waved the qunari over and handed him the large sword. He glanced at it appreciatively and then tried to hand it back to her.

"No, keep it, Sten. It's yours. I know it's not the Sword of the Beresaad, but it's a good blade, and you're the only one of us who can wield it. Please, take it."

The tall man nodded and bowed from the waist as he accepted the blade. "You have my thanks, Warden."

"And speaking of your sword… I found some interesting news from that scavenger earlier. We'll need to travel to the Frostbacks, near the gates of Orzammar to get some more details from a merchant there. I'm not giving up."

"Just let me know when you are ready to travel again."

"Of course. Where's Zevran? Has anyone seen him?"

Morrigan and Wynne both shrugged, but Sten pointed toward one of the cabins alongside the wall and said something that made the Warden's heart skip a beat.

"He went into that shack with three human men a short while ago. Do you anticipate trouble?"

"I don't know, but there's only one way to find out. Everyone, go into the tavern. I'll meet you there for a midday meal shortly."

She ran around to the back side of Kester's house and put her ear to the door of the cabin Sten had pointed to, trying to get a feel for what was going on inside.

"…Yes, this just might sweeten the deal after all. Just look at that face, Sammy. Whadya think? Can I have a go at him?" a gruff-sounding man asked.

"Sod off! I'm the boss here, and I've got first dibs!" Another man with a deeper voice replied.

"Now, now, gentlemen. There is no need to argue over me. Plenty of Zevran to go around, hahaha." The Warden breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive and well, at least for the moment.

"Well I don't care how pretty he is, he still ain't a _woman_. I'll sit 'ere and keep warm by the fireplace while you blokes have yer fun." A third man spoke from inside.

Tenniel began to worry again. She knew Zevran could definitely handle himself against two men, but three… he might get severely injured. The Warden had heard enough. She pulled the swords from her back and leaned them against the side of the house around the other corner, a few steps away from the door. She then tugged at the bodice of her gown so more cleavage would show, quickly fluffed up her hair a bit from the tight curls Petra had set and knocked quietly on the door.

"I got it. You two carry on." The third man's footsteps could be heard as he moved across the wooden floor towards the door.

"Uh… oh! Why hullo there, gorgeous." A dirty-looking thug with a missing front tooth leered at her. His breath smelled rancid.

"Um, hello to you too, ser. Pardon me, I must have the wrong room." She giggled a little, as if embarrassed.

"No worries. What can I do you for?"

"Oh, it's nothing, ser. I'm just here to perform… certain _services_. You know. Innkeeper told me the gentleman in this cabin might want to _visit_ with me next door." Tenniel giggled again, batted her eyelashes and smiled coyly at the man.

The man took the bait. He grinned at her before turning his head back inside the room and informing his fellows of his luck. "Oi, lads! Just found me the most scrumptious pair o' tits I ever saw. I'll be next door for a bit, Sammael. Ta!"

_Sammael, Sammael, where have I heard that name before…?_ Suddenly, it clicked. The thought that these fools might be trying to take advantage of Zevran made Tenniel even more angry. No, she wasn't even going to play nice and give this man a chance.

"So, lovey. How much will it be?" He closed the door behind him and followed her around the corner of the wall towards another cabin entrance.

"Oh, just everything you've got."

"Huh?" He stared, unbelieving as she stuck one sword in his gut and the other in his throat. Tenniel dodged the bloodspray as the man crumpled to the ground. She then pulled both of her swords out of his body, sliced the purse from his belt and nudged the corpse to the shadows under the raised floor of the cabin. The thug had the key to the ramshackle abode along with eighty-seven sovereigns in his purse. She had no idea why the man had been carrying so much gold, but surmised that Zevran probably had all the answers. The Warden smiled to herself and whistled for Terri.

* * *

Zevran had heard Tenniel's voice and was trying to figure out why she had left with one of the thugs. _Does she know something about this man that I do not? _

He watched as Sammael reached into his pants and started stroking his member as he licked his lips and stared back at the elf. The two foul-smelling men had insisted he strip down so they could 'see the goods' before they finally put their weapons away and appeared to relax. The assassin could barely contain his disgust. _Do none of the men in this country believe in bathing? Brasca!_ He was going to have to pay extra for a very hot bath with plenty of scented soap and some mint tincture to get rid of the stench once he was done with them.

His morose thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a barking dog bursting through the door, followed by the sounds of Sammael screaming as Terri's wickedly sharp teeth tore into the man's midsection. Zevran pulled his dagger out from underneath the mattress and stabbed the other thug in the back when he tried to reach for his weapons and help his comrade.

As the mabari went into a frenzy, the former Crow wisely moved out of the way and ran towards the tiny kitchen area of the cabin. Tenniel moved stealthily into the room, cracked the second thug's head with the pommel of _Oathkeeper_ and slammed _The Green Blade_ into his heart. She then pulled a heavy dagger from the belt of her voluminous skirts and ordered Terri to stop attacking, although he still kept the man pinned down.

"Sammael. You are hereby executed by order of the Blackstone Irregulars for dereliction of duty." The tow-headed noblewoman threw her dagger into the eye socket of Sammael and shoved it through his skull with her boot, effectively silencing his cries. It was all over in just a few seconds.

She smoothed her skirt down, cocked her head to the side and put both hands on her hips as she eyed the former Crow from head to toe. The assassin simply crossed his arms in front of his chest, raised one eyebrow and smirked back at her.

"Warden, what are you wearing? Those garments are not suitable for battle at all!"

Tenniel smirked at him from across the room and wiped her blades clean on her latest victim's breeches. "And yet, it's a damn site better than what you're wearing. Or should I say NOT wearing!" She couldn't help but laugh at their situation as he walked toward the bed where his leggings and armor lay.

The Warden took off her coat and hugged him tightly after he returned to her side of the room and retrieved his dagger. "I can't even stay mad at you, Zevran. I'm not sure what the hell you were trying to do, but would you please do me a favor next time, please?"

"Yes?" He sat down on the side of the bed and pulled her down so she was seated in his lap.

"Please tell me your plans. For a moment, I was so worried…" Tenniel's explanation was silenced for a moment as he kissed her and held her close, breathing in the scent of her freshly washed hair and skin.

"There is no need to worry about your assassin. But, if it will make you feel better, then fine. I will do my best to inform you of my plans."

"Thank you, Zevran. That's all I ask."

"So tell me, why have you killed my potential buyer? Not that I'm complaining, of course. But it does tend to paint me in a bad light if you go around murdering everyone I do business with."

"And just what sort of _business_ where you doing, Zevran? You and I both know you're not a whore. You… stop it. Please, just _stop_. Stop doing things like this, like you're still a Crow." She was still speaking quietly. It was hard for her to focus when he was sitting there naked, looking so sweet and cocky and beautiful, all at the same time.

"Aren't we _all_ whores, my dear Warden? We all exchange something for what we want or what we need. Some _thing_, some _feeling_. My body has always been my best weapon, and so I use it. And do not try to tell me you do not do the same, Tenniel. How did you get the other thug to follow you, hmmm?"

"Zevran." She closed her eyes and whispered his name very quietly.

"Yes?"

"You have a way with words."

He laughed, kissed her again and tugged on one of her curls, entranced by the way it bounced back into place. "What did they do to you in the Tower? In my Antiva, you would be a most amazing courtesan. If I did not just see you kill these two lying here on the floor, I would say there is no way such an exquisite creature could be such a deadly fighter."

"Please, Zevran. There are plenty of blonde-haired, green-eyed women in Ferelden. I am nothing special. But you… my gorgeous assassin. What am I going to do with you? Seriously. That Sammael, he was bad business. The Blackstone Irregulars - remember that guy who was on the porch of the Redcliffe chantry?"

"_Si_, I remember the one. They are paying you to do some odd jobs…"

"Yes. Well, the first contact I had with them, I was given a mission to find some deserters and get rid of them - no questions asked. Sammael, Tomas, and Layson are all wanted for dereliction of duty. Instead of helping to defend the country, they all stole supplies from the mercenaries and went rogue. One down, two to go."

"Aha, I see now. How very convenient that is for us. He was also the gem merchant and has at least four or five hundred sovereigns on him. And now we can keep all the loot _and_ that ring of yours for another time." He sighed, reached behind him and slipped the linen tunic he wore underneath his cured leather armor on over his head. "Let's find these supplies, get our money and celebrate tonight. I cannot wait to take this dress off of you."

"Wait, Zevran. You still didn't answer my question. What were you trying to accomplish here, if he was already going to buy the ring? Were you honestly going to let those… those filthy _pigs_ have their way with you?"

"What is this - concern for me? Or is it jealousy I am hearing?" His deft fingers quickly tightened the buckles and laces on his armor, and he wondered who had helped her get into that dress with its complicated fasteners.

"I... no. Yes. Maybe. I… probably wouldn't mind watching you get worked over, if that's what you really wanted to do. And perhaps I'd like to join in. But only if the guys looked and smelled better."

Zevran gave a loud belly laugh at her reply. "Such a saucy little minx!"

She laughed with him, then got up from the bed and watched Terri paw at the wooden floor as the assassin finished getting dressed. The blood would clean up easily enough, and at least the rug wasn't soiled. No need to tell the innkeeper any bad news if Bodahn and Sandal were willing enough to get rid of the mess and profit off of the goods no one would miss.

"You _still_ didn't answer my question. Do not think I will forget so easily."

"It is becoming apparent to me that you do not forget much at all. Will you forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what? I don't even know what it is you were trying to do. We're _friends_ Zevran, and I rely on you more than anyone else. All I ask is that you talk to me, please." It was her turn to throw his words back at him.

He stared at the fire dancing amongst the stones as he finished lacing his boots, then stared into her warm green eyes, accented by the dress she was wearing. "Fair enough. I…" He sighed, not sure that he wanted to let her know exactly how he felt about her so much. "Let's just say, I do not want you to have to sell your Cousland sword and shield. These things, they are important in the long run. Something that has been in your family for many generations and something you should pass on to your children as well, yes?"

"Yes, but they are only things."

"Tenniel, _we_ are all things. What is pride, what is dignity, especially for one who was raised amongst whores and who has been a slave his entire life? This man, he would have been distracted and I would have gained at least five more gold pieces in exchange for a few moments of pleasure. And you would give up your family's treasure - hundreds of years of history - for a mere sovereign and fifteen silvers or so! Am I not right?"

For once, she was silent. She crossed her arms under her breasts and shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry. She wondered again why anyone could ever think this man was just a heartless killer.

He quietly moved towards her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the tears that were slowly trickling down from the corners of her eyes.

"Zevran, I…" She held on to him lightly at first and then hugged him fiercely, afraid to say anything more. He caressed the soft curve of her jaw line and kissed her lips again.

"Shhhh! Your tears, for _me_? Now this… _this_ is priceless, _mi corazón_."

* * *

After retrieving the money and the supplies, she called Bodahn and Sandal over to help them get rid of the corpses and then invited the two dwarves to join her and the rest of her party for a meal. "How are the horses? Would it be alright if we stayed here several more days, Bodahn?" She asked as they headed back towards the tavern.

"By all means, Warden. The horses are fine, plenty of hay and oats here, as well as plenty of business with all the refugees fleeing northbound. My son and I will journey with you back to Redcliffe whenever you're ready."

"Thank you. It's a blessing to have you with us on the road."

"Likewise. All the goods you bring me, plus the steady business, well, I couldn't ask for better circumstances. Even with all that sky, it's still better here with you Wardens than in Orzammar, my lady."

"The Warden is very good at making foreigners feel welcome, no?" Zevran chimed in.

"Aye, I'll second that. My boy and I are glad for your kindness."

"It's my pleasure. But speaking of kindness, I want to do a little something special for our group…" She ducked down to whisper into the dwarf's ear and even Zevran was unable to decipher what she was planning.

As they walked into the tavern arm-in-arm, more than a few heads turned to stare at the Warden and the elf. Tenniel was oblivious to this, but Zevran smirked and glared fiercely at a few human men who were eyeing her like she was some sort of prize they had won at a festival. He even had to slap Alistair's hand away when the ex-Templar reached out to touch her hair.

"No, no touching! What do you think you are doing, silly man? A gentleman does not go around tugging at a lady's hair… or her other parts. You had better learn some proper manners if you're to become King, my young friend."

"Ah, oh. Sorry! But I don't ever want to be King anyway…"

"I hardly think your _wants_ have anything to do with it in the long run." Zevran replied. But Alistair was already distracted by Tenniel's display of cleavage as she removed her overcoat and prepared to sit at the table with the rest of her friends. The elf chuckled to himself as the boy's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets and his mouth hung open in wonder.

"Wow! You look amazing! Like a… a real lady! Er… that didn't sound right. I meant, they're beautiful. Um, just trying to say you look really lovely, Tenniel."

"Thank you, Alistair. But you can close your mouth now. You'd think he'd never seen a woman without her armor on or something…" She smiled and winked at him and then beamed at the rest of their party all gathered around four tables they had pushed together. "So, is everyone ready to eat?"

"Yes, we've already ordered several roasts with vegetables and bread. We know you Wardens have a very healthy appetite. Everything should be ready shortly." Wynne replied.

"Great! I'm famished!" The party talked about the journey to the lake and all the goods they'd collected, ate their meal and shared a few glasses of wine as the Warden relayed the news from the Mage's Tower. Soon enough, a few started asking questions about what they would be doing next.

"Alright, listen up, everyone. Zevran, Terri and I have to leave tomorrow morning. Alistair, I'm going to need my family's sword and shield back – don't worry, I've gotten you better replacements. But on the road here, I found out that one of my father's knights and his daughter, my lady-in-waiting, survived the attack on Highever. We're going to meet with them and I'm giving the family keepsakes to them for safekeeping."

"That's wonderful news, Tenniel. Is your destination far?" Wynne asked.

"No, just across the lake. We'll be back in a few days. How is Alistair's leg?"

"It's healing very nicely. He'll be back to normal again in about a week's time, at the most."

"Wonderful. Alistair?"

"Yes, I think I'll be able to put some weight on it soon."

"Good. I want you and Wynne to stay here at the inn with Bodahn and Sandal the next week. Rest, relax – enjoy the downtime while you have it. That goes for everyone. Get plenty of rest while we're here. I expect we'll have a lot to do in the coming days."

It was Leliana's turn to ask a question next. "But what do you want the rest of us to do?"

"Glad you asked. I was about to request your assistance. You too, Morrigan. And Sten. I'd like you to take the ferry across the lake with us tomorrow and head up to Orzammar for a bit of scouting. With Kester's help, you save six day's journey each way. So catch the latest news and get a feel for how things are going there. I don't want any surprises – not like when we got to Redcliffe. Know what I mean?"

"Of course." The Bard replied.

"A sound plan, Warden." Morrigan agreed.

"Leliana, please do the talking for the most part. All of you, try to avoid fighting as much as possible. We don't need to draw any more attention to ourselves. And while you're there, see if you can track down a merchant by the name of Faryn. He should know more about what happened to Asala."

"You have my thanks, Warden." Sten was suddenly agreeable.

"Good, that's settled, then. Here's some money; I know you'll be travelling light. Meet Kester at the exact spot where the ferry drops you off at one week from now, and we'll all meet back here at the inn; just in time to go back to Arl Eamon's castle with the mages in nine days. Zevran, are you still up for travelling with me?"

"But of course. I go wherever you go." He kissed Tenniel's hand and grinned at her flirtatiously, making her giggle for a moment. She rewarded him with a quick kiss, which in turn made a few of their tablemates roll their eyes.

"Disgusting!" Sten sneered at their display of affection.

"Please, we just ate a good meal. T'would be a pity to lose it watching you two suck face." Morrigan grumbled, teasing them.

"Oh, get out of here! I mean it, all of you – let's go outside. There's a few supplies I need to hand out."

The Warden led the group toward the wagons and started passing out some of the items she had purchased. Terri was eager to receive his new collar, the _Mabari War Harness_ she bought from the Circle Tower's Quartermaster. He pranced around proudly for a moment and then followed Kester for some fishing while she showed Alistair his new veridium dwarven longsword with the master silverite rune she had Sandal enchant into it earlier for him. Tenniel then handed her fellow warden _Earthheart's Portable Bulwark_ and watched his eyes light up as he leaned on his crutch and tested out his new shield.

"This is great! I can't wait to beat up on some darkspawn with this new sword and shield. Thanks, Tenniel. You're the best!"

"Hahaha, no problem. I have to make sure my fighters have top-notch equipment, after all!" She proceeded to pass out the rest of the items: Leliana got the _Bard's Dancing Shoes_ and _Sailor's Crossbow_, Wynne received a new cap and the _Par Vollen Willstone_, and Morrigan was very happy to get a replacement for her low-grade staff. She let loose a few blasts from _Final Reason_ and the rest of the team cheered as she exploded an empty barrel next to the highway wall. The Warden also gave Sten a red steel helmet, and while the qunari was busy showing Alistair and the rest of the team his new blade, _Yusaris_, she pulled Zevran aside to give him a very special upgrade.

"This is Dalish, and when I visited the quartermaster and saw this, I knew I couldn't just leave this in the Templar's hands. Please, take it." She handed him _Andruil's Blessing_, and watched as his eyes widened in appreciation of the belt's exquisite craftsmanship.

"But this must have cost a small fortune! How did you know we would have enough money left over after you bought this?" He asked before taking off his _Mixed Metal Rounds_ and sliding on his new belt.

She smiled at him and stole a kiss while his hands were busy. "I have faith in my assassin."

"Ah, but this is wonderful! You should have kept it for yourself, Warden."

"Nonsense! I am very well-equipped, and the quartermaster already traded with me for a better-fitting set of Drakeskin. You always have my back, Zevran. I want to make sure you are well taken care of."

"This is an interesting turn of events. I tried to kill you just two weeks ago and now here we are, taking care of each other. _Muchas gracias_, Tenniel. Thank you very much."

The party returned to _The Spoiled Princess_, where yet another surprise awaited them – sugar cake. After they all indulged in the sweet treat, Leliana started strumming on her lute as Morrigan excused herself from the table and headed up to her room. Since it was the off-season, Zevran had been able to reserve all the rooms at the inn and two cabins for a very good discounted rate. Each member of their party could have some privacy that night. And now that they had stumbled upon a small fortune, Tenniel was determined to let the rest of the team enjoy a brief respite from the demands of the road.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

Zevran danced with the Warden for a few minutes, twirling her around as Leliana switched the tempo to a more livelier tune. All of the patrons clapped and cheered as Tenniel swayed her hips to the music, laughing and smiling as the Antivan led the dance and then dipped her for a grand finale.

"You dance very well, Zevran! Somehow, I just knew you would."

"Hahaha, and there are other things I do very well. Shall we go to our room so I may demonstrate?"

"How can I resist an invitation like that? Lead on."

The couple walked through the door and up the narrow stairs to the end of the hall where their room awaited, the largest one in the inn. Zevran closed and locked the door behind them with a click as Tenniel stared at her almost-opulent surroundings.

"This - this is… beautiful! Zevran, you've outdone yourself!"

There was fragrant potpourri in a bowl near the four-poster bed and candles gave the room a warm, soft glow. She turned to thank him again, but he silenced her with a long kiss, capturing her undivided attention with his tongue and lips as his nimble fingers began unfastening the back of her gown. Her eyes were still closed and she leaned against him for support when he slowly tugged the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the stone floor in a soft pile, leaving her red and black laced smallclothes on.

"Ahhh, my dear one. But it is nowhere near as beautiful as you."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him unabashedly. "Look at you. No fair, you still have your armor on! What're you going to do, now that you have me all to yourself, hmmm?" The Warden took off her boots and reached for him, but he stepped just out of her reach.

He stared at her for a moment, licking his lips as he admired her nubile body. She had quite a bit more muscle on her arms than most noblewomen he was used to dealing with, and there was no question her bosom deserved a song or two of its own. But her slim waist and those long, long legs – how often had he dreamed of feeling them wrapped around his body as she moved beneath him in ecstasy! "I've waited so long. Over two weeks, I've patiently waited for you. I think I want to take my time and savor the moment now, yes?"

The Warden's next words brought joy to his soul. "You may do whatever you wish. I am yours." She clasped her arms behind his neck as they kissed again and she tugged impatiently at his belt when he started to loosen it. Slowly, he walked backwards with her as he led them to the bed. By the time they arrived, his armor was on floor with her bandeau and she was already planting hot kisses over the swirling pattern of tattoos on his arms and chest.

"Magnificent! Mmm… Zevran, you are a work of art."

"Hahahaha! The better to lure my potential victims in. Now come here. What are you doing? I thought you said I could do whatever I wish, _no_? Do I have to tie you up to make you be still, woman?"

She giggled and tried to squirm out of his reach, but he easily held both of her arms behind her back with one hand and bent down to lightly capture a nipple between his teeth. _My Warden may own the battlefield, but this is my domain. _He flicked it with his tongue and then squeezed her entire breast as she arched her back in response. _And now, it begins_.

Tenniel already had her legs wrapped around his body and he was resting on his knees with one arm against the mattress as he kissed her neck and breasts and teased her nipples. Zevran slowly moved his hand down to her smallclothes and tucked his thumb underneath the skimpy lace garment. She moaned and wriggled her lower body in response, arching her back again and urging him on.

When his fingers lightly touched her wetness, she gasped and kissed him more deeply as he began to make gentle circles with his thumb on her clit. The assassin finally let her arms go, and she immediately reached down to grope his throbbing member. She caressed the full length of his cock through his smallclothes before he reached underneath her and took her frilly undergarments off, kissing her legs all the way from the top of her thighs to her ankles.

_A golden-haired goddess, most definitely._ She finally lay naked before him, her eyes wide and inviting and her blonde tresses unbound and wild-looking. Tenniel sat up and reached for him again, and their lips met for another series of kisses. As their tongues intertwined, he finally pushed himself up again and let her tug his smallclothes down, and it was his turn to groan as she began stroking his hardness.

"Ah, Zevran! I want you, now!" She whispered to him in a husky, alluring voice, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Oh, you do? Are you sure?" He was on his knees above her again and wanted to tease her just a bit more.

"Yes, please, please. Take me. You know you don't have to be gentle with me. Come, take me. Fuck me."

"I…what?" He looked down at her, incredulously. _Is she for real? _She was going to drive him over the edge much too soon. "You're going to regret saying that by the time the night is over, _mi tentadora_."_ This woman, this _temptress_ is worse than any desire demon._

"Mmm… I'm yours." She grabbed his cock and stuck it between her breasts, lightly sucking the tip and teasing his opening with her tongue. Then, she kissed the tip with her soft, wet lips and shocked him by taking his entire length. He groaned when he felt his cock bend slightly down her throat and he knew he was going past her tonsils. But she didn't even gag, she just kept bobbing her head back and forth, coating him with her saliva and even rubbing underneath his balls as they bounced against her chin and breasts.

_Mercy! She's going to be my un-doing! _Zevran couldn't resist putting his hands against her head and running his fingers through her hair. He gasped when she finally paused, gripping his cock with both of her hands and swirling her tongue around the tip, licking up a bit of pre-cum. _Where the fuck did she learn how to do that?_

His thoughts were easily distracted as she guided his hand down between her legs again. The woman was dripping wet, and as his head dipped down so he could flick his tongue out for a quick taste, it was her turn to gasp loudly again. She smelled flowery from whatever she had done at the Circle Tower and tasted wonderfully sweet.

Soon enough, she was squirming again, whispering his name and begging him for something, anything.

"Zevran, Zevran, Zevran! Please!"

He heard Tenniel calling his name and decided he was done teasing. The elf positioned his member against the lips of her vagina and slowly started pushing his way in. She squeezed her legs against him and arched her back as she felt his hardness enter her and cried aloud for the first time that night.

Tenniel wrapped her arms tightly around his back and met his thrust with one of her own, causing him to lose control for a moment. He started groaning as he completely slid into her and finally bumped against her cervix. A string of sentences spilled forth in Antivan when he realized that she was able to take him fully, and he lost himself in the moment. _So long, so long I've been waiting for this. _

At first, he tried to keep a steady rhythm, determined to take his time. But she made that extremely difficult for him, too. Tenniel would move against him and whisper into his ear, kissing and sucking on his ear lobe. He felt her entire body stop a few times as she tightened around his cock, cried out and became even wetter. All too soon, he was thrusting into her, pounding their sweat-slicked bodies together as she urged him on and orgasmed again. He lost it entirely when she started screaming his name loudly and lightly digging her nails into his back.

"Fuck me, Zevran! Yes! Yes! Yes! Zevran, Zevran!"

Zevran swore and groaned aloud right before he covered her mouth with his again and kissed her deeply. He tried to pull out of her, but she gripped him even tighter and he gave a few last, frantic thrusts against Tenniel before spilling his seed into her.

His cock pulsated inside of her for several long moments until he could no longer hold his arms up, and Zevran collapsed on top of her as she held him close. They continued to kiss even though they were both panting, their bodies covered with sweat. Tenniel closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of their hearts beating fiercely together.

He almost panicked for a moment when he realized what he had just done. But this woman, his Warden wasn't reaching for a bamboo stick to cane him with. She was just laying there, holding him and letting herself be caressed as he remembered the first words she spoke to him when he started following her, west of Lothering. _Zevran, you may stay with me, or do whatever you wish. You are no longer a Crow. Pursue whatever it is your heart desires._ He was a master of seduction, but this woman had just released him from yet another inhibition.

She smoothed his hair down and trailed her fingers against the side of his face, enjoying their intimate moment while she had the luxury. Zevran finally slid out of her and hugged her close as she looked him deeply in the eyes again.

"I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable." He chuckled as he squeezed his arms a little more tightly around her.

"Oh? Here I thought _I _seduced _you_!" Tenniel retorted.

"Hahaha, saucy as ever, I see. So what now?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"What comes next is entirely up to you. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give."

"That sounds fine by me, my assassin. Thank you, Zevran."

"No, _mi corazón_. It is I who should thank _you_." He kissed her hand and held her close again.

"You're welcome, then. Anytime. I promise to never wait so long again to give you what you want. And I want to give myself to you, me and my body, to do whatever it is that you want to. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful, _mi amora_. Absolutely wonderful."

* * *

They spent the rest of the day and most of the evening getting acquainted with each other's bodies, fully enjoying the carnal delights. Zevran was true to his word and spent hours with her, teasing, pleasing, and taking her however he wanted to. But she did not regret one minute of it. She was glad that he was not afraid to take liberties with her, and he in turn was very glad that he did not have to hold back. After their extended lovemaking sessions, they finally stopped to clean up and prepare for an evening meal. At the end of their bath, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I will get it. It's probably just someone from our party, wondering if we're going to meet for dinner."

The assassin wrapped a towel around his waist and was taken aback when instead, it turned out to be a delivery boy.

"Ah, excuse me, ser. Looking for a Lord Zevran or Lady Tenniel."

"Yes, I am… Zevran." _Definitely not a lord, not by any stretch of the imagination._

"Package for you, ser!" The courier handed him a large burlap sack and sped off down the hallway.

Zevran set the package on the bench and began carefully cutting the ties open, curious to see what was in it. He glanced over at Tenniel stepping out of the bath, but she just smiled at him coyly and continued drying herself off.

"It looks like the quartermaster at the Tower delivered your armor. And something more, too…" His words trailed off as he gasped, completely caught by surprise.

In addition to The Warden's set of drakeskin armor, another set of high-quality inscribed leather armor, gloves, and helmet was there, along with a pair of leather boots. "You spoil me!"

"Mmm. That smell… this is _Antivan_ leather, isn't it? I would know that anywhere!" The former Crow thanked her repeatedly, admired his new boots and began reminiscing about his life in Antiva again.

Tenniel listened, always eager to hear his stories and glad to see that he seemed happy and completely at ease. They went downstairs for a late dinner, and after a couple glasses of wine, she finally asked him,

"So Zevran, tell me again, why did you leave Antiva?"

He sighed and sipped on his wine before replying. "I wouldn't have spoken about it before, but you have been a good friend. There is no reason for me not to speak of it now. There is a reason why I accepted this mission in Ferelden, far away from home, and it had _nothing_ to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident." He sighed again, and she put her hands over his in a comforting gesture.

"My last mission before this one… did not end well."

"What happened?" Tenniel asked quietly.

Zevran finally told her his story about Rinna and why he left his beloved homeland. She sat at the table by his side and listened to every word.

* * *

_It had rained again, but instead of cooling them off, it was even hotter and more stagnant outside. Zevran could see steam rising up from the cobblestones as they slowly walked towards the rendezvous point. They had tracked the merchant and his bodyguards to the outskirts of Seleny, and although they had bested the soldiers that had tried to intercept them, the Crows knew that something was amiss._

"_We no longer have the element of surprise on our side. Someone has alerted them to our presence, and our intent." Taliesen's jaw was clenched in rage._

"_It is of no matter. We still have a job to do. Let us finish it and be done."_

"_I do not wish to die for your vanity, Zev. Stop and think about what this means. She's betrayed us."_

"_You don't know that for certain."_

"_Oh? Who else could have done it? Master Varkel said there were no other bids on this contract. No one else knew the details about where he was going or what road he'd be traveling on."_

_Zevran said nothing for several minutes as he followed his friend towards the wind mill. "No one betrays the Crows." he finally broke the silence._

"_Damn right! Especially not little knife-eared-bitches who think they can get away with disfiguring human corpses, like it's some sort of joke."_

"_So you know about that as well." The blond-haired assassin sighed and shook his head with regret. _

"_How could I _not_ know? Everyone knows, by now. You should have never let her into your bed, Zev. She's a sloppy, stupid, worthless whore. You're better than that."_

"_Oh, am I?" he replied quietly._

_Taliesen looked at him closely, his brow furrowing with unspoken questions that would have to wait for another time. He opened the door to the mill and gestured for Zevran to follow._

_Rinna stood up as they entered the dusty room. "Finally! What took you so long?"_

"_You know damned well what took us so long, traitor!" Taliesen wasted no time in confronting her._

_Zevran watched as the man grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the wall. Her eyes went wide with shock, pleading with him to do something. He listened to the intermittent creak of the windmill's blades as the hot breeze slowly spun them around._

"_What are you talking about? I… I would _never_ betray the Crows! Tell, him Zevran!" she begged for him to interfere and save her from Taliesen's wrath, her legs flailing uselessly against the human._

_Taliesen cuffed her harshly and released her from the wall. Both men watched with their arms crossed as she pushed herself up from the grain-covered floor, knelt and spit out a mouthful of blood. _

"_Zevran, I would never betray you! I love you!" Rinna looked up at them, her thick hair masking the side of her face that Taliesen had hit. She was very skilled in such arts._

_The human Crow sneered at her. "You _love_ him? That's rich, coming from you. You must _love_ Master Varkel, too, seeing as how you fucked him last night after he told you to leave. After he said he knew you were mutilating human corpses and your days were numbered. Just can't get enough of the cock, can you, whore? You think your _concha5_ will save you from your mistakes, but this time you've gone too far."_

_Zevran felt his heart grow even colder. He wanted to believe her, but she had definitely overstepped by daring to say that she loved him, and in front of Taliesen, no less. Crows were not allowed to love. She was weak, she had broken numerous rules and what she had done was inexcusable. He would not become weak by letting her words affect him. She was already dead in his eyes._

_Rinna continued to look at him, even as Taliesen reached for his sword and grabbed her hair. _

_She screamed, begging for her life until her last breath. "No, _please_! I love you, Zevran, I _love_ you!" _

_The intermittent creak of the windmill blades did little to muffle the sound of a blade parting flesh and the dull thud of her head hitting the floorboards. _

_Such was the way of the Crows. He had seen many of his brethren slaughter each other over the years, sometimes for a bitter rivalry; other times, just because one was weaker and the strong one wanted to get the attention of the Masters by proving how skilled he was in comparison. Such behavior was often encouraged. It kept their ranks strong, ensuring that the inept fools were weeded out quickly. For the first time, Zevran questioned such behavior._

_But it didn't matter. Zevran had once thought of Rinna as a friend, but she had proven to be a traitor, after all. He stepped to the side to dodge the rapidly growing pool of blood, and then spat on her corpse. The once-lovely eyes stared up at him accusingly._

"_Let's go finish the job." he nodded to Taliesen as they exited into the hot afternoon sun._

_Later, he would remember feeling numb as they came upon the body of Meiras, the Crow who had actually betrayed them to the merchant. The corpse was full of their arrows. He and Taliesen were bruised and bloody after their battle with the merchant's guards, but they were the only ones still standing._

_Zevran laughed, stabbed Meiras' dagger into the dirt and snapped the blade from the hilt in a rare display of anger._

"_Zev, what's the matter?" Taliesen was alarmed._

"_What's the _matter_, you say? She didn't lie to us, Taliesen. She didn't betray us after all."_ _He had stood by and done nothing as his partner slit her throat. Even if he couldn't love her back, he couldn't excuse himself for being a coward and not insisting on finding out the truth before she was executed. He let her die._

"_So, what? She was still a stupid whore. We're better off without her."_

"_Fine. _You_ tell Master Varkel that you killed one of his slaves on a whim. I want no part of this." He refused to look at the man's face as he clinched his fists to his side and started walking towards town._

"_It doesn't work that way, lover. You _know_ it doesn't. You were there with me, and you _let_ it happen. So let's not say anything at all. They'll just assume she was discovered by Meiras and died by that spy's hands. What happened back there in the windmill...? It didn't happen."_

"_What is the point, Taliesen?" he replied, more tired than angry. "Perhaps I am getting too old for this."_

_Taliesen chuckled and shook his head. "Now _that's_ a laugh. You may be fifteen years older than me, but you look a decade younger. Although… even I have to admit, this mission was pretty fucking dicey. We should take a break for a while. What possessed you to bid on this contract anyway? Were you looking for a challenge, or just too proud to pass up on something so difficult? No one could have done it but the mighty Zevran, eh…?"_

_His silence was answer enough._

_The next day, Zevran still refused to speak to Taliesen. He listened as his partner gave Master Varkel the mission report while they collected their payment._

"_Meiras must have done it, you say?" The Crow Master shrugged his shoulders and smirked scornfully at them. "You should know better than to try and lie to me by now, Taliesen. But it is no matter. She'd outgrown her usefulness, and there are plenty of others to replace her."_

_Master Varkel reached out to hand the men their gold. "She was just as worthless as you are, Zevran. Remember that. Your time will come, soon enough." He laughed as the elf turned on his heel and walked away._

_The elven Crow refused to be baited by Master Varkel. He was the sadistic bastard who had used and abused Rinna and so many others. One day, his time would come, just as death had come for the other two masters Zevran had served before Varkel came to power. There were no old Crows._

_Taliesen called after him, but Zevran ignored his partner, pretending not to hear. His boots echoed against the marble floor as he left headquarters for what he hoped would be the last time._

_Zevran gathered up what little belongings he had into a small pack and booked passage on _The Siren's Call _the next day._ _He didn't even bother trying to talk to Isabella, and thankfully, she was preoccupied with escorting some relic and had little time for him. When the blond elf finally stepped off the gangplank onto Ferelden soil, he was assailed by the smell of wet dog from the dockside kennels._

_He checked in with Master Ignacio and heard the news of the Blight, and the death of their Fereldan king. When Cesar explained the latest open contract for killing the rogue Grey Wardens, he almost laughed. _

_If he survived, he would be hated and his name would be forever recorded in infamy. If he died…_ '_well, death comes to us all_,' _Zevran thought._ A_t least _he_ had a choice._

* * *

He sipped his wine again and looked into Tenniel's emerald-colored eyes. "You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens? And then... _this_ happened. And here I am."

She was moved by his story, but she was very alarmed when he mentioned wanting to die. The Warden had already suffered through one suicide, and she did not think her heart would survive if Zevran did anything to harm himself. So she quietly asked him, "Do you still want to die?"

"No! No, not now. Though I can see why you, of all people would ask that." He touched the side of her face and tried to reassure her. _She must be worried, considering how the father of her children left her all alone. _

"Do not worry, _mi corazón_. I have hope now, and much to live for. Whatever I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal."

"And I owe you, as well, Zevran. I know I am not the easiest person to get along with at times, and I've got a few violent personality quirks to work on. When I first started this journey, after my family was murdered and Loghain betrayed the Wardens and the King … well, there were times when I didn't think that I could go on, either. And I know we've got a long ways to go."

She thought about the Grey Warden treaties and fell into a somber mood again, thinking about the impossible odds of her, a Ferelden noblewoman, being able to convince the Dalish or the Dwarves to join her cause.

Tenniel scooted her chair closer to Zevran and reached for his hands, tenderly kissing his knuckles and then his fingertips as she closed her eyes. She held his hands and took a deep breath, released it and looked up at him again. "But you… _you_ are a wonderful man. Ruthless, cunning, intelligent, sincere, clever, funny and just… wonderful. I am very glad to have you with me, Zevran."

"And here I am, glad to be had!"

"So… what does _mi amora_ mean?"

"Oh, it is nothing. Just another endearment, like _mi corazón_. You deserve every word, my dear lady." _You do not even realize how extraordinary you are. Everyone knows you are a noblewoman and yet you don't think twice about things like dancing with me in public and treating me as an equal. In everything, even our lovemaking._ _But I will not tell you how much I care. Those are just words, anyway. I would rather let you think I'm just a callous bastard, because… if I cannot protect you from the Crows and whatever else you face on this journey, I do not deserve your heart or your high regard. _

"I am yours, Tenniel," he simply said. "Come, let us go upstairs and enjoy the rest of the night together."

* * *

5 literally, seashell; euphemism for pussy, vagina


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: **_This was originally a "Winter wonderland" one-shot prompt, created in 20 minutes for a "People of Thedas dot dreamwidth dot org / 149018 dot html" contest .

* * *

_**Chapter Nine**_

They had fallen asleep, naked in each others' arms, the crackle of the fireplace and the warm, inviting aroma of vanilla-scented candles lulling them to a blissful slumber.

_Crack!_

The blonde noblewoman reached behind her pillow for her dagger, instantly sitting up and wondering at the intrusion. Her elven companion was already out of the bed and crouching low, having retrieved a similar dagger from beneath the mattress.

Another crack. This time, both relaxed as they realized it was only something hitting the window of their room at the inn.

"What the… hey, that was a snowball! Come here, look, Zevran! It's snowing!" Her nose was pressed to the glass, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, peering over her shoulder at the lakeside below.

The countryside had been converted to something out of a painting he had seen once. Terri, Sandal and Leliana were romping away in the deep snow, and Alistair was busy making what appeared to be round missiles of the white substance. A rather large stack of them lay on the ground behind a few logs. It almost looked like something out of a Fade dream, with the torch lights in front of the tavern flickering and illuminating the white wonderland before them.

The elf had never even been in snow before, but he could already feel the cold creeping in through the window. "How nice. Frozen water falling from the sky _and_ wet dog."

"Yes, yes, the perfect Ferelden combination. Woo-hoo! Looks like we've already gotten half a foot's worth, and more is falling. Come on, let's get dressed. This'll be fun, I promise."

"Fun?" The assassin sighed but quickly complied, albeit reluctantly. "We will have to see about that. But I go where you go, _mi corazón_."

She gave a wicked laugh and winked at him, and he smiled wryly back at her. Tenniel was no doubt thinking up some nefarious scheme to retaliate for having been dunked underneath the bathwater by him a few hours ago. _But oh, how it was worth it! The expression on her face… _Zevran chuckled to himself. He hadn't laughed so much in a very long time.

* * *

And now, they were outside, and he was thankful again for his warm pair of Dalish gloves and his new helm and warmer set of armor. He could see the vapor from his breath as soon as he stepped out the door…

_Thwack!_

He was rudely interrupted by a wet snowball hitting his chin, icy bits scattering and flaking down into the collar of his armor.

"Hey, no fair! We just got out here. Give us some time to prepare our arsenal, you two!" His Warden yelled at Alistair and Leliana, kissed his chin and wiped away the cold liquid as his eyes narrowed.

"Ice? At my face! Brasca! This means war." Zevran was not pleased.

"Damn right! It's us versus them."

"Oh, it's _on_!" They would feel the wrath of the pointy-eared assassin before the night was finished, of that he had no doubt.

They moved to a semi-sheltered spot a few meters in front of Kester's booth, where the ferryman was busy taking down his now-frozen catch of the day and placing the fish into a crate. Tenniel quickly demonstrated to the Antivan elf the best way to make a snowball, and Zevran soon developed a knack for packing the snow perfectly, which was full of moisture from the relatively warmer air above the lake. Soon enough, a large pile of the neatly packed creations lay ready to their side.

Sandal and Terri were still chasing each other and a stick through the snow when their fearless leader whistled shrilly and yelled at the other side to prepare themselves. She nodded to Wynne who was standing near the tavern door with her arms crossed, thoroughly amused at the antics on display before her.

"Shall we keep score?" the former Crow asked, in all seriousness.

"But of course. Losers get a sweet snowball surprise at the end, too." She winked at him for the second time that night, and he wondered again what she was planning.

"Now!"

It was all over in just a few minutes, and both sides were laughing and breathing heavily as their arsenal was depleted. Zevran was declared the winner without a doubt, as the Antivan had proven to have a precise and uncannily good aim, often hitting Alistair's forehead before he could duck behind the logs quickly enough.

"No fair – I'm injured!"

"Hahaha, and no mercy to you, either! You should have thought about that _before_ you started the war, my young friend." Zevran replied, helping the ex-Templar out of the snow and up onto his crutch.

"And now for the _coup de grâce_!" Tenniel announced solemnly. She and Zevran quickly reached down to grab a handful of snow. By the time Alistair and Leliana realized what they were about to do, it was too late. The bard was busy jumping around and screeching at the sudden intrusion of ice down inside the back of her armor, and Alistair had almost fallen as he tried in vain to jump, wiggle and force the snow out of his breeches.

Everyone laughed again for several minutes. "Oh, you're good. Too good. You two shouldn't be allowed to collaborate together on anything," Leliana exclaimed.

Zevran helped the younger warden keep his balance as they finally headed inside, so he failed to notice when Tenniel lingered a bit longer than the rest of the group and stuck something inside one of her belt pouches. The innkeeper passed around a few shots of rum, and they all laughed and joked before finally bidding each other goodnight and heading upstairs to their rooms again.

* * *

They removed their clothes and she kissed him, prepared to start another round of lovemaking.

"Mmm… you spoil me."

"But you have to make up for lost time, right? Two weeks… hmmm… what would they say to that back home in Antiva, if the great Zevran took so long to make his conquest?" She teased him mercilessly.

"They would probably say, it is a good that she is worth all the trouble, no?"

The elf and the noblewoman laughed and kissed each other again. A few moments later, she was bending down and on her knees, sucking and licking him like he was some candied dessert. _My, but she does that so well…_

"Arggghhh! _¿Qué es esto?_" His manhood was suddenly accosted by a most dreadful coldness. Zevran groaned. What a precarious position! Why, oh why had he let his guard down with this woman?

"Hahahaha! So, you don't like the cold, do you? Prepare to be tortured!" She had packed a bit of snow and saved it for this special occasion. A piece of ice was melting on her tongue, and she grabbed his balls with the palm of her cold, cold hand. "My, my, but it's so warm here…"

Yes, it was surprising at first, but now that he knew what it felt like, perhaps it wasn't so bad after all. The assassin reached for the back of Tenniel's head and played with her blonde curls. She flicked his tip with her tongue again and her warm, soft lips enveloped his hardness as her cold hand wrapped around the base of his cock. "Ahhhh, no, no….. yes, yes, yes. I think you are getting better at this torture thing…"


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

_The click-clack of boot heels echoing against the pavement is all he hears as he walks next to her towards his apartment. She smiles and laughs at some inane remark made by the barefoot kids carrying buckets of water up the rickety steps. He looks up at her and the water falls, drips slowly down the stairwell and becomes a grisly carmine mess. Her pupils grow wide, eyes becoming entirely black, her gaze as empty and lifeless as he feels. How she is able to speak with all the blood dripping steadily out of her neck escapes him._

"_Why did you not trust me? How could you just let me die like that?"_

_She repeats the questions, over and over again. He replies with silence, his regret turning into panic as he backs down the stairs and she follows, chasing him across the cobbled street and down the alleyway. As always, the children turn to burnt corpses and the walled alleyway crumbles into dust. Her face wavers, becoming unrecognizable as her once-lovely raven hair transforms into a tangled mass of cold, thorny vines, latching onto to his legs and pulling him back towards a dark, gaping mass of nothingness. Hundreds of voices scream accusingly:_

"_You are a coward. You will never know love!" _

_He tries in vain to reach for his daggers, but they are gone - gone like his pride, his hopes, and any confidence he may have once had. The icy vines wrap around his neck, and it is his turn for his throat to be cut, for his lifeblood to spill across the ground. Why has he tried to resist? He is just a slave, a killer, a whore and a son of a whore. There can be nothing better for him than a death as cold and painful as his heart feels. Did he ever have a heart? He remembers a smile and a kiss, and he tries to struggle one last time…_

"Zevran." _A sweet, sultry voice whispers his name. A warm hand touches his cheek, an arm hugs his side and soft lips kiss the back of his neck._

* * *

"Zevran!" Tenniel whispered his name again and snuggled closer to the Antivan. Her assassin was cold and all of the covers were bunched up at his feet. "Are you alright, sweetie?" she asked again, pulling the blankets up and covering both of them. The Warden rested her head against his back and listened to his rapid heartbeat.

"Si. Yes, I am fine. Go back to sleep," Zevran replied quietly. He hadn't had the dream in several days. _Another nightmare, again? But she is here, and calling me sweet. _The assassin sighed, rubbed her arm and tried in vain to return to sleep with her warm, soft curves at his back. Thoughts of the past weeks and of Rinna kept intruding as soon as he tried to close his eyes again. Why was he here, next to this Warden now? Surely this was a passing fancy, and despite the fact that she had indulged him up to this point, he was sure that her feelings toward him would not last. Could he even have any feelings of his own, after everything that had happened? _Why, oh why did I tell her about Rinna?_

Frustrated, Zevran rubbed his throbbing temples and slowly extricated himself from the bedding and her warm embrace. He got up, added a few more logs to the fireplace and looked down at the gorgeous and deadly rogue lying on the bed, her bosom rising softly with each breath she took. The Warden opened her eyes after a just a few seconds, as if reacting to the intensity of Zevran's stare.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked quietly before sitting up.

"Yes, it is nothing. Perhaps I am just not used to sleeping in a bed. Go back to sleep, Warden."

"Hmmm… well, if you say so." But she was not convinced, and the painful grimace as he rubbed his forehead only confirmed her suspicions. Tenniel crawled out from under the covers, ignoring his protests as she rose and crossed the bearskin rug and the cold wooden floor to retrieve something from her pack. She added a few drops of some healing potion to half a glass of water along with a pinch of spearmint and shook it lightly before taking a few sips.

"Here, have some. The red wine at The Spoiled Princess was terrible, and my head is already throbbing. You drank far more than I did. Plus the rum." She smiled, remembering how he had tied her up and made her beg for release after she teased him with the ice. They had finished another thoroughly enjoyable lovemaking session and packed their gear before finally falling asleep. If the remnants of the candles were any indication, they had another three hours to take advantage of before they would have to journey across the lake.

The assassin sighed, and then shrugged, chuckling softly before accepting the glass and gulping the remedy down. "You should not be concerned over any small discomforts of mine. But thank you."

"And why shouldn't I? You sleep next to me now and for as long as you wish to. When I am having nightmares of burning castles and darkspawn and start disturbing your restful slumber, you will wake me as well, right?"

Bright amber eyes reflected the firelight and met her dark green ones. Zevran was speechless once again. His Warden still wanted to keep him next to her, at least for now. And she was taking care of him, as if he deserved someone like her to treat him so well. _Will this woman ever stop surprising me?_

"Yes, of course. Thank you. I feel better already." He eyed her warily and gave her a tentative half-smile. He wasn't sure if he was quite yet comfortable with the thought of someone actually tending to his needs and trusting him to do the same. And the things he had done with her last night! He hadn't intended to get so carried away, not on their first night together. But she had not sent him away. And if she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, he would go along with this, as long as it lasted. _Enjoy the moment._

"You're always welcome. Let's go back to sleep, shall we?" She reached for his arm, pulled him beside her and hugged him once more, pressing her breasts against his naked chest as she kissed the tattoo on the side of his cheek and the corner of his eye.

"Come here, let me warm you up." The Warden breathed in the scent of spearmint and musk. She loved the way he smelled, and she loved the way his skin felt next to hers; his strong arms wrapped around her waist as she rested her chin against his one of his broad, scarred shoulders. But Tenniel knew that haunted look in his eyes. She had often seen it reflected back in her looking glass, especially in the months following Gérard's untimely end. No amount of talking would ever help, but she would show him that she still wanted him by her side, that she would always need him by her side. Even if he needed to be reminded of that every day.

The assassin let the Warden lead him back to their bed and tucked the still-warm covers over them.

"Better?" She asked, cuddling up next to him and stealing half of his pillow.

"Si, mi corazón. Much better." He kissed her and smiled as her breathing evened out again. _Look at you, my silly, violent, beautiful, passionate Warden – you fall asleep so quickly, as if you don't have a care in the world._ _My heart. Why do you trust someone like me?_

* * *

"Thanks again for taking care of Terri last night, Kester!"

"No problem, m'lady. He can stay with me anytime. I remember when both of you were still just pups, after all. Glad to see you in good health. Maker guide you, Lady Tenniel."

"And you as well, Kester. We'll see you in two days, then. Here – a little extra for your time. I know with the snows coming so early you'll need to stock up on salt and other goods."

"Aye. Thoughtful as ever, you are. Two days, then." He accepted a few extra silvers as they stepped off the skiff and onto the gangplank.

"See you all next week! Stay out of trouble," she added. Terri barked as she and Zevran waved goodbye to Sten, Leliana and Morrigan. The ferryboat headed north as the Warden and her two companions moved away from the short pier and ventured westward.

"Okay, boy, I know you want to run free. We'll meet up with you soon, okay?" Terri barked a few times then whined, as if he was asking her a question.

"No, no hunting! There's too many prickly porcupines in this area, remember?" She knelt down to scratch behind his ears and smoothed her gloved hand over the top of his head.

* * *

_She found him quite by accident one day as she was lurking around the back side of Bann Alfstanna's estate near the West Hill fortress. She had followed some archers, sneaking in the shadows to see if she could watch them practice when she heard his growls and barks. _

"_We're gonna have to put this one down, I'm afraid. Always gets into mischief and hasn't imprinted on anyone yet. It's been more than a month. And now this… we can't keep a pup that bites the hand that feeds it." The man grasped his injured hand and flexed his pinky finger, the only one that wasn't wrapped in gauze._

"_Aye, Marden. Let me go get one of the soldiers. A spear should do the trick. He's massive. A fine specimen. Such a shame, really." The dog whined and began barking again. A few of the other dogs also started barking in their cages._

_Tenniel thought he just sounded hurt. She crept past Marden as the man sat down on a crate to wax his bowstring, seemingly oblivious to the caged dogs and the girl lurking just behind his back. She looked through the bars and the mabari whined again, a little more quietly, cocking his head to one side as if asking a question. "Hey, you," she whispered softly, coaxing him towards the door. _

_The dog moved closer to the door, opened his mouth, stuck his tongue out and began panting as he looked at her. _

"_Are you going to bite me if I try to pet you?" she asked. _

_The dog did nothing in response, so she tentatively reached her hand through the bars and touched the top of his large round head. He closed his eyes and made a whimpering sound, but he didn't snap his jaws at her. So Tenniel reached further in to scratch him behind his right ear. _

_The dog rolled onto its side and looked up at her, and that's when she saw something glinting against the lamplight. It was hard to see at first, and almost blended in with his whiskers, but there was definitely something sharp and needle-like stuck underneath his nose._

"_C'mere boy, let me help you, okay?" She whispered soothingly and petted his head. The dog closed his eyes tightly and let out a little yelp when she quickly yanked the long porcupine quill from above his lip. He moved away, covered his nose with his large paws and then rolled around in the hay in his cage for a few moments. Once he recovered, he scooted closer to the door and gave a few excited barks, putting his head down so she could pet him again._

"_Aww, that's right boy. You were just hurting, weren't you? You're a good doggy." She giggled when he rolled on his back again and she reached further in to scratch his chest ad belly._

_Unbeknownst to her, Marden had been watching closely the entire time. The other archer returned with the soldier, and they saw the former rogue dog getting his belly rubbed by the girl. "Huh. We thought we'd gotten all those quills out yesterday. Thank the Maker we're saved from having to put him down. Now what're you doing in here, lass?"_

_She slowly turned around to face the archer and gave a sheepish grin. "Uh, I was… I was just trying to see if I could watch you practice. Ser Walter Gilmore says Bann Alfstanna's archers are the best."_

"_Oh he does, does he? That's quite a compliment, coming from him. You must be the Teyrn's daughter. Aye, I've heard about you. Always getting into mischief, almost as much as this boy here. You'll make quite the pair, you will."_

"_What… really? I can… can I keep him?" She was overjoyed when the man nodded and chuckled at her._

"_A abari doesn't let just anybody scratch its belly, little lady. You've made quite an impression. Let's go back to the main hall and tell your folks the good news. What're you going to name that terror, eh…?"_

"Go to the cottage, and wait for us there with the pups, Terri!" Tenniel encouraged the mabari, who gave one sharp, happy bark in reply before running uphill through the trees.

* * *

"We're going to take the winding path up, Zevran. It takes an extra hour but it's safer that way, especially with our packs. The only thing we have to worry about on this side of the lake is a few wolves and maybe a bear or two looking for a cave to hibernate in."

"Sounds wonderful. Always good to have some exercise after such a hearty breakfast, no?"

The air was crisp and fresh, and the west shore of the lake only had a layer of heavy frost that was already starting to melt off the beach grasses as the sun rose in a cloudless sky over a vast forest of pines. Tenniel and the Antivan kept conversation to a minimum as they trekked uphill, but Zevran began asking her questions about her family when the path evened out again.

"You mentioned this Regina was your lady-in-waiting…?"

"Ha! More like partner-in-crime." Tenniel laughed aloud. "Ser Walter was always assigned to watch over me when our family was travelling, so we pretty much grew up together. She's like a big sister to me; Regina is four years older than I am, but I was always the one who got us into trouble. Too curious for my own good, I suppose."

"Curiosity is like tossing an acid flask. Best to follow it with caution, no?" Zevran remembered one of his masters saying that to him, reminding him to always be on the lookout for circumstances that seemed out of the ordinary.

"Yeah, well – I was stubborn and could care less about caution back then. Oh, the mischief we got into! Once, we were visiting West Hill right after I had first gotten Terri. I must've been about eleven or twelve. Being the adventurous sort, I decided it would be a good idea to try and run outside of Bann Alfstanna's estate to take the dog out for a walk myself. Poor Regina insisted on following me. She was frantic with worry and thought we'd get lost, despite my assurances that mabari hounds _never_ get lost."

"Is that true?" Zevran asked

"Why, yes, I suppose. At least with Terri, it is. Once he's been to a place, he always seems to be able to find it again."

"This is good to know. Please, continue."

"Well, we walked all around the village and the surrounding woodlands and I even had to fight off some crazy old drunken sot that swore we were there to steal his ale. When we finally made it back to the estate that evening, Terri ran up to the courtyard where the noblemen were gathered and relieved himself right behind Rendon Howe, so the Arl stepped in it when he turned around. That bastard was so furious! He kept demanding that my father keep _me_ on a tighter leash. As if!" She grinned and chuckled a bit, remembering the look on her father's face as he tried not to laugh at Rendon's predicament.

"That could not have been good; you interrupting the nobles like that. And from what I remember of the Arl Howe, regardless of how obsequious he was around that rather taciturn Loghain fellow, he did not seem to have much patience for children or servants."

"Pffft. Even then, allowances were made for the Teyrn's daughter. But I suspect he was just upset that I bested his son at archery that summer. He was always trying to push Nate into being a winner at everything and telling him to learn to be a leader. Some people are just not cut out for that sort of thing, though."

"Oh? You seem to do it rather well." He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye and froze as he noticed a pack of wolves gathering in the distance, their stark white and gray fur in sharp contrast against the browns and greens of the surrounding forest. When he turned back toward Tenniel, she nodded and whispered softly to him.

"No need to bother them. This is their territory. And it's not like we need any more pelts. Let's just go around stealthily." The two travelers blended into the shadows and weren't heard again until they reached another rocky area farther uphill.

The assassin made note of the way she moved through the forest without so much as snapping a twig. As soon as they were far enough away from the wolves, he asked her, "Tenniel, have you spent time with any other Dalish besides your friend?"

"Yes, I have. Last year I took Jeanelle across the border with me during one of my missions and we chased down a tribe known to wander about near Verchiel. She wanted to find someone who could teach her more healing magics, and I didn't mind learning a few skills from their hunters. I have a lot of respect for the Dalish." She paused to climb over a large cedar that had conveniently fallen over a gulley and helped Zevran step down when he reached the end of the log.

"Anyway, we stayed in the area a few months, but she said she didn't fit in with them anymore and wanted to get back to Regina and the kids when I was done with my escort mission. Why do you ask? Didn't you tell me once that you had spent some time with the Dalish?" They moved slightly northward around a large outcropping of rock before they ventured into the pines again, the multitude of dead needles on the forest floor muffling their footsteps like a soft carpet as they followed a narrow hunting trail.

"_Si_, I did spend some time amongst them when I was young. You move like us… like them." _The most graceful shemlen I have ever seen._ "And you are extraordinarily strong, even for a Grey Warden. You have picked up quite a few skills over the years, for one so young. And you have earned respect from a great many people. Perhaps there is such a thing as a born leader after all."

"Thanks, I think. But twenty-one isn't so young. And about all the strength and skills I've picked up… well, never mind. You and I are going to have a chat with Ser Walter about that later."

He raised an eyebrow. _Only one who has seen too much would say that twenty-one isn't so young._ "A chat, oh?"

She smiled back at him reassuringly. "Yes, later. But anyway, my brother was the one who was supposed to be the leader. Truth be told, I was always interested in warfare and fighting as far back as I can remember. I would read the historic texts on past battles and try to reenact them with toy soldiers. My father indulged me; especially since it was clear the Fergus didn't take much of an interest in the subject. If only he had listened to me and recalled some of his men from the village to guard the castle after Fergus left, we wouldn't be in this mess now." They crossed a pristine stream and looked down the mountainside through the break in the trees as the water made its way to the lake.

Zevran missed his Antiva city, but this country had a beauty all its own. Everything in the mountains smelled so fresh and clean and strong, like nothing could ever truly touch it. It reminded him of his Warden – cool, powerful, beautiful and untouchable, until you got to know her. _Why is she reminiscing about these things now? _"Are you sure about that, Tenniel? What about the Grey Wardens? The Blight still needs to be stopped. If you were still busy with your family…" he paused to catch his breath. They were moving up a steep incline again, and his thigh muscles were burning with fatigue.

"You're right. We might have been able to help after Ostagar, but my father would never have agreed to let me join the Wardens. And Fergus would still be missing." She sighed heavily. "It may have been easier to raise an army, but there's no point in dreaming about what might have been." The Warden suddenly stopped and signaled for Zevran to wait.

"Why are we stopping?"

"Horses have been heading up the mountain through this way recently. And Walter would not have traveled this way."

He could see no tracks or road apples, so Zevran stilled for a moment and breathed deeply, confirming her suspicions when the smell of horseflesh assailed his nostrils. "What do you think this means?"

"Well, I don't see any burning buildings, and there's no sign of battle. If anything was wrong, we would've heard Terri barking by now. It might be…" She took off her pack and rubbed the back of her neck as she stretched out.

"What is it, Warden?" he bent down and stretched his leg out against a tree stump

"Some of my friends are freeholders and knights from the bannorn. They all know Ser Walter and we've done a lot of fighting together over the past few years. With the King dead, and if Arl Howe is getting heavy-handed with the banns, it stands to reason they would want to meet him here and discuss some things. Sometimes we'd meet to hunt around this time of year – after Harvestmere but before the snows get too deep."

"Ah, I see. Planning a revolution, so to speak." He looked closely at her face, wondering if she was hiding something from him.

"Nothing that drastic, at least I hope not yet. But Howe has definitely got to go. This will be interesting, now that they know I'm still alive." She stopped and faced the assassin, holding on to his arm for a moment. "I would introduce you as my bodyguard, but no one from my past is going to believe that I'd ever need a personal bodyguard. You are my man, my second in command, and my trusted advisor. Is that alright with you?"

"Hahahaha! I go from trying to kill you to being your trusted advisor. Thank you for the promotion, your ladyship. And I am your man, as always. But how large is this… cottage or cabin, or whatever it is you call it. How many people might we expect to be there?"

"Oh, it's plenty big enough, so don't worry about that. Ser Walter found a ruined Alamarri fort a few decades ago and keeps adding to it all the time. It really is his mountainside training retreat and hunting lodge. There are at least eight or nine bedrooms, guards' quarters, a largish kitchen and dining area, meeting and craft rooms, and a separate cottage and an indoor training hall. Plus the apartments we built over the stable last year. It's actually quite the little fortress; more like a keep. The perfect spot to go hunting from. We only call it a cabin to confuse people, I suppose." She laughed at his dawning realization.

"Aha. What did you hunt up there?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. Bears, wolves, the occasional dragon." The Fereldan rogue laughed at him again.

_I hope she's joking about the dragon hunting. _"So you must have stayed here often, I take it." Zevran asked, wondering why she was suddenly talking faster. Almost as if she was nervous about something.

"Not as often as I would have liked. I fell in love with the place the first time I visited, when I was fourteen. Our family would visit here during the summertime when it got really hot in Highever. It's nice and warm up north, but there are no proper beaches to cool off in the Waking Sea near the castle." She bit the bottom of her lip and gazed uphill, seemingly lost in thought.

"Warden." He reached out and smoothed down a few errant strands of her hair that were blowing in the stiff breeze. Before he even realized what he was doing, his arms were around her and he was kissing her. "Breathe, Tenniel. Just breathe." He kissed her again until she finally relaxed against him.

"Now tell your assassin what is on your mind."

"I…" She took a deep breath, released it and touched her forehead against his. "Thank you. See? That's why I need you." She hugged him close and kissed him again. "I am just being silly, I suppose. It's just… everything's hitting me all at once. I thought for sure my pups were killed by that bastard. And I haven't even seen them in a couple months. And I was always gone away a lot from them before, too. What if… what if they don't even remember me? They deserve better than having me as a horrible mother." She sighed and forced herself not to cry, not to show any more weakness.

_Did she really say that she _needed_ me? Interesting choice of words. Just what have you gotten yourself into this time, Zevran? _The Antivan eyed the dark gray clouds hovering over the mountaintops. Getting stuck in an ice storm in this terrain would be disastrous. He squinted up his eyes, then shook his head and tried to re-focus again.

"You _are_ being silly." Zevran reassured her. "Your children… they are almost three years old, right? _Of course_ they will remember you. And you have your loyal, trusted friends taking care of them, too. A family is much more than just blood, Warden. Haven't you learned anything from Bodahn and Sandal? Now come, let us get to our destination so you can be reunited. As wonderful as this view is, I am eager to have a roof over our heads before the weather turns nasty again."

"Right you are. Let's go, gorgeous. But slowly. The air is a little thinner up here, and takes some getting used to." She caught him glancing furtively at the sky and flashed him one of her brilliant smiles. "What's up?" Tenniel hefted her pack back onto her back as they prepared to trudge uphill again

"Oh, nothing. For a second there, I thought I saw a dragon."

"You probably did. This is dragon country, after all." The Warden laughed as they approached a series of wooden steps stuck into the steep, rocky hillside.

"You _are_ joking… right?"He asked her. A wink and a smile was her only response. _Great. Why does she seem so oddly cheerful about that?_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

"Ten-Ten! Mummy Ten-Ten! You're here!" Two bright-eyed, tow-headed little children squealed for the Warden when they approached the keep's sturdy wooden gates.

Zevran smiled as they crawled out from under the gate as soon as it was lifted high enough for them. Terri scrambled after them, and the Warden sat her pack down at the assassin's feet and pulled off her gloves as the toddlers rushed for her.

"Kayla! Darren! I missed you so much!" Tenniel scooped up her children and held one in each arm as they took turns kissing her cheeks. She sat down with them and they immediately tried to fill her in on the events of the past few weeks.

"We were 'fraid we weren't gonna see you no more!" Darren exclaimed as she ran her hands through his short hair.

"Yeah! But Jenny-bird found you yesterday and… and we drew something for you! You gotta come see it!" Kayla was jumping with excitement even as her mother tried to hold her close.

"Did you fight a lot of monsters?" The boy reached out to tentatively touch the pommel of _The Green Blade_.

"Who's that? Is he your sweetheart?" Kayla tugged on her ponytail and smiled shyly when she noticed Zevran looking at Tenniel. "He's pretty!" She whispered loudly into her mother's ear and giggled mischievously.

Her mother couldn't help but giggle in return. Zevran watched the three of them smiling and laughing and showing their dimples in a touching display of blissful family togetherness. He had never seen his Warden look so genuinely happy before. Once again, he felt an odd feeling stirring inside of him, and he finally realized that it made him happy to see her enjoying herself. _Careful, Zevran._

Tenniel noticed the crumbs on their faces and poked their bellies playfully. "Have you been eating cookies again? Oh, for the love of the Maker, you two adorable pups are so full of energy! Let's go inside and chat, okay? And yes, Darren, I did fight a lot of monsters. Both of you, this is Zevran. He's my sweetheart _and_ he fights with me, Kayla."

"Hi, Zev-Ron!" The children yelled to him in a sing-song voice, as if he was far across the yard instead of right next to them.

"Let's go get Dada!" The rambunctious children, clad in their wolf-pelt coats chased Terri back through the gate and across a grassy field where a few goats and some pack-mules were lounging about next to several ballista. The Warden and Zevran followed, and the man that had opened the gate for them immediately reached for her backpack.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Tenniel. Welcome home."

"Thank you, Wilton. It's good to see you as well. Did Melissa…?" She tried in vain to grab her pack again, but he shooed her hands away.

"Yes, my lady. We are both here. And she's expecting again. Nothing will replace little Jonah, but… ah, no need to talk about that. We all lost someone in that tragedy at the castle. The Howes have much to pay for."

"Aye, and they will. You have my word on that," she assured him." This is Zevran. He will be staying with me in the cottage, so please show him around while I meet up with Walter and Regina."

"My lady! Are you… sure? We have… other visitors." The red-haired servant pointed to the stables and seemed quite surprised at the news that she and this warrior-elf would be staying in the same quarters together.

"Yes, quite sure, Wilton. I am a Grey Warden now. I no longer have the patience or the stomach for worrying about what is proper for someone of my title. Please, treat him with the same courtesy as you would me. He is a dear friend." Tenniel reached for her assassin's hand and squeezed his fingers, hoping that he would not object to anything she said.

"Yes, my lady. Certainly. Your pack will be waiting for you at the cottage."

"Thank you. And Zevran, please check things out and join me in the kitchen as soon as you're settled in, okay?"

He nodded once to signify he knew exactly what she meant by _check things out_. "Of course, my dear Warden. I shall meet with you soon." He squeezed her hand in return and the two parted ways.

* * *

Wilton showed Zevran the various parts of the keep before finally heading towards a cottage closest to the mountainside. "Here you are, ser. And here are keys for you and the lady. We were able to er... salvage a lot of things from the castle after the bulk of Howe's guards left. We transferred many of her personal effects from the storage closet in the main keep to this building yesterday."

"No need to call me ser. And I am sure the lady would agree that her family's goods are better off in your hands than her parent's killers."

"Yes, well, most of Highever's freeholders looted the castle after that bastard had the audacity to string the Teyrn and Teyrna up from the front gates. And now there are a lot of refugees housed there. That place is in a state of disarray, I'm afraid. But we're fine up here in the mountains."

"Good to hear. Might I ask where the visitors have gathered?" He asked as the bearded man headed out through the thick pinewood door.

"They're in the main hall, ser, ah Zevran. Are you from the Free Marches?"

"No, I am from Antiva."

"Ahh! Is it true it's always warm in your country? My Melissa always wanted to go someplace where it's warm…"

"Yes, it is true. Antiva never gets cold like it does here in Ferelden. Although it seems surprisingly warm enough up here."

"Hmmm, yes. Well, Ser Walter can explain all that to you if you're interested. And you're quite lucky, to have won the lady's heart, if you don't mind me saying so. There are a couple of her former suitors here who might be a bit suspicious, but if Lady Tenniel's chosen you, you're alright by me. If you need anything, just send for me, or else Roderick and Emily – they're the elven couple. We stay in the two apartments above the stable." The man closed the door and left Zevran to his thoughts.

_Chosen me? Ah well, there's no better way to ascertain the character of a noblewoman than to find out her servants' opinion of her. _The assassin unpacked his things and explored the cottage. Despite the fact that there was no fire burning in the fireplace, the building felt quite comfortable. He bent down to touch the flagstone floor and it was warm to the touch.

The cottage held several closets and chests in the bedroom and two couches in the sitting area near the fireplace. There was even a separate kitchen area with a small dining table. All of the furnishings were made of the same warm and cheerful pinewood, with cushions and quilts adorned in blue and green wool.

He went back into the bedroom and through a narrow door to find a large stone bathtub. _These barbarians have a water pump up here in the mountains? How very lucky, to get a hot bath two days in a row._ He remembered how Rinna used to berate him for always insisting on a hot bath...

* * *

_It starts to rain again, but the flowers are in bloom and the quick showers are always a welcome reprieve from the hot noonday sun. The Crow had collected his payment after successfully stopping some witness who was supposed to testify against some lying merchant prince. Taliesen had dodged a second too late and received an arrow to his backside, but by the time the witness's armed escort had finally realized the Crows were there, they had permanently silenced the man. So Zevran had reported back to Master Varkel while Taliesen limped off to find a healer. The assassin laughs aloud as he remembers his partner's pained expression. He would definitely have to tease him about that for a few weeks. _

_Zevran is glad to have a day or two to rest before their next mission. No matter how many palaces and grand estates he is able to stay in as a caged pet of whatever random nobleman who was hiring their services that particular week, there is always something about coming home to this neighborhood and his own ramshackle apartment with the smell of leather permeating the air that lifts his spirits. Luxuries like indoor plumbing and silk sheets aside, he can never truly relax in someone else's house. He starts flirting with one of the buxom flower girls who is busy trying to push her cart underneath an awning as the rain falls even harder._

"_Zevran, darling! You'd better hurry home. I saw your little sweetheart head this way a few minutes ago. You don't want to make her wait, now do you?"_

"_Sweetheart? Nonsense, no one is as sweet as you, my dear Malia."_

"_Mmmhmm. You'd better take some of these roses. She looked a bit upset. You know, she was here looking for you yesterday, too."_

"_Was she now? Well, that won't do. I must encourage her not to develop such bad habits, eh?" He grabs the flowers from her and steals a kiss from the flower girl's pouty lips before she can protest._

"_Oh, you're such a rascal! Get out of here, shoo, you!" Malia is used to his antics. Zevran helped fend off some unwanted suitors for her a few years ago, and she is forever a loyal friend._

_The assassin heads towards his apartment and takes the rickety stairs two at a time, stopping briefly to press a few coppers into the hand of a street urchin who already has his buckets ready._

"_Another hot bath for you soon, señor Arainai!"_

_Rinna is waiting for him at the top of the stairs, glowering at him with her arms crossed. "I can't believe you actually spend your allowance on such trivialities. It's as if you can't go one day without a hot bath, even when it's this warm outside!"_

"_Hahahaha! Spare me the lecture, beautiful one. Though you do get this delicious little groove between your eyes when you are cross." He pokes her forehead with the tip of his index finger before she can block him and he loves watching her eyes light up as he presents the red and pink roses to her from behind his back. "And good day to you. What brings you here so early? Aren't you supposed to be reporting to Master Varkel today?"_

"_Yes, well, he just said today. Not exactly _when_ today. I'll get there before it's dark." She replies with a huff._

"_Tsk, tsk. You should know better than to tempt fate. Have you forgotten the feel of his whip so soon, my dear?" He looks her up and down, staring at her luridly as he unlocks the door to his apartment._

_She scowls again and rolls her eyes. "He's just another stupid fucking shem with a mean streak, I don't care if he _is_ a master or not."_

_Zevran has heard enough. He grabs her by the arm and pulls her inside, almost a little too roughly. "What is the matter with you, girl? Do you have a death wish? You cannot say things like this. Remember, you are a Crow, above all else. Just because Taliesen and I have vouched for you - that you are ready to go on higher-ranking missions with us - does _not_ mean you can afford to be sloppy. Your life is in Varkel's hands."_

"_I am not being sloppy! It's just… Zevran, don't you ever get tired of it sometimes? Always having to listen to what they say, having to follow all their rules? These Makers-damned shem just take, and take, and they dictate everything! I am so sick of hearing what I'm allowed to do and not do, what I'm allowed to feel."_

"_Is that why you're disfiguring the corpses of the men you've been forced to seduce?" He asked. It was his turn to cross his arms. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. "Rinna! Some of the clean-up crew is already whispering about it. If I could tell you were the one doing this, how long do you think it will take before the Masters find out?" _

"_I know this! And I don't need to hear it from you. But I swear, if I have to bend over for one more…"_

"_Enough! We have ALL had to endure doing things we hate. But endure we must."_

"_Zevran, I…" She reaches for him, and he holds onto her and lets her rest against his chest. Rinna often leans against him and clenches her jaw after a particularly tough assignment, never allowing herself to be weak enough to shed a tear. Zevran can only admire her all the more for it; that this tiny woman would so often come to him bruised, battered and cut and only want to be held like this._

"_Nothing lasts forever, my sweet; and that includes pain. You will get past this. And then you can start going on missions with Taliesen and I. We won't force you into the role of the unwilling seductress. I know you have many other skills." He smoothes her hair and stares at the bare walls of his apartment until he hears a soft knock at his door._

"_Señor Arainai!"_

"_Yes, yes, come in." He watches as the street urchin and his three friends trudge in and begin emptying buckets of hot water into his metal tub._

_He bathes both himself and her that night, relaxing their tired muscles and easing their spirits with the scent of roses on the water. Zevran even gives her a gentle massage afterward. She is silent the entire time, but her smile is all the reward he needs. _

* * *

The former Crow freshened up and changed into regular clothes, glad to get out of his slightly heavier new armor. He crept across the yard, through the dining hall and into the threshold of the main meeting room where he listened in on various conversations for several minutes.

Seven human men, two elves and one female knight all sat around a large round table, discussing current events, how many darkspawn had been spotted, and arguing over how many refugees this or that bann had to contend with. Zevran was still blending in with the shadows, and so far not even the usually attentive mabari hounds had any idea he was amongst them. He tread closer to listen in on one human in silverite mail who seemed to be conversing with an Orlesian about trade and what Lady Tenniel needed to do about it.

"Well, now that we know she's alive, we don't have to follow anything that imposter teyrn says. All of his taxes are insanely high, but that no-good Howe doesn't even have enough collectors to enforce anything. And if we get her to sign this trade agreement as acting teyrn, it won't matter what he says." The man had short, curly brown hair and blue eyes. Zevran had to admit he was a rather handsome fellow.

"A good plan, _mon ami_. I knew there was a reason why the Arl asked me travel to this barbaric mountainous retreat, hahaha! And the Lady Tenniel, ahhh… I cannot wait to gaze upon her gorgeous physique once again. I had better try to snap her up now, before the suitors line up to have their try at her hand. Now that she's acting Teyrna, she's even more of a delicious morsel, no?" The man with the Orlesian accent and rugged good looks had long black hair and a short goatee. _Definitely beddable._

"Ha! You won't be getting a taste of her, so don't get your hopes up, Marcel. I have it on good authority that she can't abide by men with thick accents. So much for you and all your fancy schooling in Orlais! But I don't think she likes men that can't best her at hand-to-hand combat, either. Hmmm… perhaps that's why she hasn't taken any of us to her bed yet."

"Now you're teasing! Perhaps we should ask the lady herself?"

Zevran chose that moment to reveal himself. "I can assure you, you are wrong on both accounts, ser knight."

"What impertinence! Who is this, Ser Timothy?" Marcel demanded an answer.

"I dunno! Announce yourself at once, intruder!" He yelled as he got up from his chair.

All eyes were on Zevran as he gave a mocking bow and laughed haughtily at the Fereldans gathered in the hall. "I could not resist, since you were discussing my beautiful Warden so openly."

"_Your_ Warden! You travel with Tenniel?" A gruff-sounding man in heavy dragonbone plate mail sat up from the table and regarded the Antivan disdainfully.

"Yes indeed I do. And I can assure you, she is as lovely and deadly as ever." He laughed again and smirked at the scowls he received from some of the men.

Ser Timothy had heard enough. "Who the hell do you think you are? Are you smirking? I think you are smirking! How _dare_ you mock us! Prepare to defend yourself!"

_My, my, my… slow wits and a quick temper. Reminds me of Alistair. _The assassin easily dodged the man's greatsword and spun around him, slicing through the leather straps of his pauldron with a flick of his dagger as the knight cursed vehemently. _Tenniel's momentum training is paying off in spades…_

"Stand still and face me, you coward!" Ser Timothy commanded, looking comical as he struggled to hold his shoulder armor together. Some of his friends shook their head in dismay and snickered at his predicament. The two elves stayed back against the wall on the far side of the table and eyed the impudent foreign elf apprehensively.

_And now for my exit…_ Zevran added insult to injury by slicing the man's purse from his waist. He immediately disappeared, blending into the shadows again and laughing to himself as the men yelled 'Where'd the little bastard go?' and other outraged comments. He crept from the room and soon only heard the sound of dogs barking in the distance as he left the chaos behind and made his way towards the kitchen.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve**_

"Reggie, mind if I cook the midday meal?" Tenniel asked as she nibbled on a cookie. She had freshened up and changed into a pair of thigh-high leather boots. A loose-fitting cream-colored linen shirt-dress embroidered with tiny red daggers around the low-cut neckline and bottom hem, sleeves cut open from the shoulder to the wrist completed her casual look. The two sharp daggers hanging from the belt that fitted low on her waist made her look more like a deadly pirate seductress than a wanton harlot.

"What? No, you just got here, and I know you must be tired!" The petite redhead tried to talk her out of it as she set a huge chunk of roasted lamb in front of Terri.

"Nonsense! I'm as fit as ever. Maybe even more so, now that I've got the taint. Come on, it's been ages since I've been able to cook a proper meal, and you all have so many spices and fresh vegetables up here… Oooh! You've got fresh trout from the pond today, too? You've got to let me make some fish chowder! I've got Nan's recipes memorized." The Warden ignored the frizzy, befreckled redhead's scowls. It was obvious that Regina did not want her longtime friend and hero to spend her free time making a meal.

Walter, however, recognized that she needed to keep busy. "Reggie, let the lass do as she wishes. Even with all the hot springs in the caves below us, it's starting to get a wee bit chilly for these old bones. I, for one, wouldn't mind eating a hearty chowder instead of grilled trout. Ten-Ten, you can talk to us and the children as you work. Just make enough for twenty."

The Warden peeled and diced twenty large potatoes, chopped five onions, boned and skinned ten trout filets and added it all to ten cups of milk, a cup of butter, five cups of cheese, a large finely chopped garlic clove, and a generous amount of black pepper. As she told her stories and stirred the simmering mixture over the fire with a long spoon, Walter and Jeanelle started asking her specific questions about the events in Ostagar and her travels thus far.

"So you met this Antivan Crow lad right outside of Lothering?" The old war veteran sat at the table and chopped celery with Jeanelle while the children scribbled more drawings on some parchment.

"Yes, he tried to assassinate Alistair and I while we were on the way to the Tower to get a healer to join our party. He had the audacity to joke with me while I interrogated him, and well, the rest is history. I'm glad I spared him, though. He's a very loyal companion." She stepped aside as Jeanelle got up from the table and placed a few basil leaves along with the chopped celery into the stew. The Warden frowned, and then crumbled ten slices of thick smoked bacon into the chowder. _Bacon makes everything better._

"And you're sure you want to make him… stronger?" Walter asked.

"Yes, I'm sure, if he agrees to it. I would like to perform the ritual tonight, if at all possible." She nodded her head in confirmation as he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, well. He must be quite the man, if you have such confidence in him. Not many have met up to your expectations, Ten-Ten. But you've always been a good judge of character."

"Yes, Zevran _is_ quite the man. The deadliest rogue I've seen in years and easy on the eyes, too. I like having him fight by my side and I really need to increase his chances of surviving this quest. I know it will make him more dangerous, but he's proven his loyalty to me. There's no doubt that he deserves the gift. And with his Crow training, he, of all people, can handle the curse. I know he has plenty of self-control." She grinned again, thinking about how much it took for her to convince him to lose control with her.

"Mmmhmm. And the way you smile when you talk about him… tsk, tsk, tsk. Is our Tenniel finally falling in looooove again, after all this time?" Regina teased her.

"What? Love? Pssssh! Do I care for him? Yes, and very deeply. But what use is love in this crazy world? Everyone I've ever been involved with romantically has had an untimely end, one way or another. And besides, he _is_ also an assassin. People like he and I don't have the luxury to dream about the future, let alone worry about things like love."

"I think you should tell him how you feel." Jeanelle chimed in.

Tennielle rolled her eyes at that remark. "No, I think I should not."

"Well, if you say so…" Regina shrugged, not convinced in the least.

Kayla pouted and made a frustrated little noise as her brother stole the longest piece of charcoal pencil from her. "But you love Darren and me and Jenny and Reggie and Dada, right?"

"Yes, yes, sweetie, of course. You are my family. I will always love you."

"Speaking of family, one of the soldiers in the great hall mentioned something about a few Chasind folk that your brother's men ran into in the Kocari wilds. Even though Lord Fergus was very ill the last time he had seen him, there is hope that he may have survived the battle at Ostagar." Jeanelle added, returning to her seat.

Walter tapped his walking stick on the ground in agreement. "Aye, this is indeed welcome news, lass. 'Tis an evil wind that has blown through this land, to be sure. The Teyrn and Teyrna and our Roland gone, women and children not even spared a madman's ambition, monsters almost getting control of the Circle Tower, and Grey Wardens being framed for the death of our King. All an old soldier can do is hope for the best. Perhaps the teyrnir can even be returned to the Couslands once both this Blight and the usurper are dealt with, eh?"

"Right you are, Walter. But I'm afraid any talk of re-claiming Highever will have to wait until the spring thaw, at least. If my brother has survived and wishes to do so, I will support him, of course. Just as I will support Maric Theirin's bastard taking the throne, if it will bring peace and stability to the country."

"Oh, this I've got to hear…" Walter started asking her questions about Alistair, and she explained what happened at Redcliffe and how Arl Eamon was faring.

"Demon-possessed children and walking corpses! Not to mention all the abominations you cleared out of the Tower last week. Dear Maker, what is happening to this country?" Regina exclaimed.

"Aye, and the kid's mother, Lady Isolde thinks that Andraste's Ashes are the only thing that will cure the Arl. For now, he's stable – it appears that whatever bargain was struck with the boy and the demon is working and he's being kept alive with dark magics." The Warden resumed stirring the chowder and added a small amount of cayenne pepper for that extra zing. She smiled, wondering what a certain Antivan would say about her cooking.

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes, do you say? Sounds like a wild goose chase, except… did I ever tell you about my childhood in Haven, before me mum was kicked out for refusing to become the Reverend Father's seventh wife? The folks up there are bat-shit crazy but there may be a possibility for a miracle yet, lass."

"Basshit cwazy, basshit cwazy! Hahahaha!" Both children started jumping up and down and giggling as they repeated the colorful phrase. Walter's guffaws quickly turned into a sheepish grin after all three adult females gave him a cross stare. Tenniel shook her head and then turned around towards the fireplace to chuckle softly to herself.

"Oh, no. Please, Dad. Don't start talking about your weird clan in the highlands and all the spooky stuff they used to do. The children are here, by the by." Regina chastised her father.

The hardened warrior wasn't about to back down. "Hey, you – respect your elders." Walter smirked at his daughter and slapped his hand on the thick pine table for emphasis. "I'll keep it short and simple."

He proceeded to inform the Warden about the isolated community where he grew up.

Tenniel listened attentively and asked about distances and an estimate of how many people inhabited the small village and surrounding caves. "So it's possible this miracle cure may exist after all, hmmm? Maker knows we need it. But it sounds like a lot of fanatics will need to be silenced before we reach our goal."

"Planning to silence someone, my dear Warden? I am your man for the task." The assassin interrupted.

He had been listening to their conversation since Walter had asked about what happened outside of Lothering and decided to reveal himself at last, especially since it appeared that lunch was almost ready. _She really trusts in me after all. But what's this so-called ritual about?_

"And I bet you would get as much enjoyment out of it as I would, too!" The Warden laughed as Zevran sauntered into the kitchen, eyes closed as he breathed in the scent of the savory stew.

"Ah, and what is that heavenly aroma? You are cooking something delicious, no doubt."

"Yes, I'm in a rare domestic mood. Take advantage of it while you can."

"Oh, I certainly will." He bowed at the waist as he approached the table. "Zevran Arainai at your service. And you are the famous dragon-slaying ser Walter that my Warden talks about so much, no?"

The war veteran pointed to Tenniel. "Hahaha! You talk about a one-legged old man like me to your traveling companions? Dear lass, have ye cracked your skull one time too many?" Walter turned to

Zevran and stretched out his hand for a shake. "Welcome to the family, lad."

"Ha! You're family now, and that means mummy Ten-Ten loves you too!" The Warden's son exclaimed.

The assassin was almost taken aback at Walter's openly friendly gesture, and Darren's comment as he and his sister took turns playing with Terri's ball of yarn made his ears feel hot. _Family? Oh dear Maker, I do not deserve such a gift. This is not happening._

"Hmm…. apparently. But it looks like we'll be off on another adventure soon, Zevran. I think it's best to pick Wynne up for this one first, though. I'll fill you in on the details. For now…" She was interrupted as Terri rose up and started barking at someone outside the kitchen door.

"Oi, the bugger's in the kitchen! Found 'em!" A man in dark drakeskin armor ran into the kitchen behind Zevran and immediately stopped, noticing that Tenniel, ser Walter and his family were also gathered there. "Uh… begging your pardon, my Lady, ser Walter."

"No trouble, Wrigley. Good to see you again. Lunch is almost ready. Please meet us in the dining hall."

"Yes, ser!" He bowed and clasped his fist to his chest.

* * *

Tenniel noticed the glares and stares that Zevran was receiving and poked the assassin in the arm as he quietly finished his meal next to her at the head of the table. "Hey, you're not talking much." She whispered to him. The Warden had already addressed the entire group and expressed appreciation for them having ventured up the mountain that week to meet and resolve some of the challenges facing their country, even before they knew she was still alive. But she wanted to find out how many of them she could trust to support her if the civil war got out of hand.

"No need to disturb such a tasty meal by talking. You must realize Zevran enjoys his fish chowder very much. I feel right at home… there's sure to be a corrupt politician or two amongst this crowd, and… well, never mind about the whores. If you ever need to bribe me someday, you know how." He winked at her.

"So you like it?"

"Mmmm… almost as tasty as you." He chuckled deviously at her.

"Ha! I'll keep that in mind. But seriously, why is everyone giving you stink-eye? What did you do, Zevran?"

"Just having a bit of fun, Tenniel. They are all very loyal to you. And yes, there _are_ some things you will need to address, but everyone here is definitely on our side, _mi corazón_. Even that ser Timothy fellow that reminds me of Alistair." He showed her the purse he had nicked from the man and she giggled at his antics.

"Good. Thank you, my sweet." She leaned to the right and kissed him on the cheek, causing several of her countrymen to raise their eyebrows before she stood up and addressed them again.

"Everyone, my companion here is Zevran. He is my trusted confidant and I have relied on him countless times already as the other Warden and I gather an army to fight the Blight. Anything you would like to bring to my attention can be said to him as well. And if he borrows anything from you, rest assured you will have it returned."

She laughed as Zevran sat up and threw ser Timothy his money purse. The man sat down, mollified as the Antivan bowed with a flourish and then kissed Tenniel's hand in a flirtatious display of chivalry.

After the meal, everyone filed out of the dining room and back towards the meeting hall to review maps and documents with renewed energy. Marcel pulled Zevran aside and bowed respectfully to him.

"Congratulations are in order, monsieur Zevran. The lady does not choose lightly. You must tell us how you have impressed her so."

"Oh, I must? Perhaps you would like to meet with me tonight to find out, eh?" He blatantly flirted with the man Tenniel had identified as Arl Wulf's youngest son, his suspicions confirmed when the handsome man grinned and moved forward to whisper something in his ear.

"I have known Tenniel a very long time, mon ami. My fool of a half-brother found out the hard way that no one comes between a dragon and her treasure. You would do well not to tease the rest of us unfortunates."

Zevran looked at the man and smiled in return as he pulled away from his ear, but it was a brittle one that did not reach his eyes. _Is this man threatening me?_ "Your brother, eh?"

"Oui, oui, Zevran. My older brother was quite literally a bastard in every sense of the word. He had the audacity to try and force himself upon one of her little Elven sweethearts a few years ago. Somehow, he was mysteriously mauled by wolves just outside of Highever. Now I am not complaining, because the man _was_ a bastard, after all. And I do not know if this was done out of jealously or retribution, but I would rather not find out the hard way and find myself full of regrets in the Fade. Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly, my good man. But, if my wonderful Warden should decide she wants an additional pair of hands for a sensual massage someday…?"

"Hahaha, now that is the best news I've heard in months! It would be my delight to spend some time with two beautiful creatures such as yourselves. Please, do not hesitate to call on me from the farthest corners of Thedas, and I will be there, without a doubt!"

* * *

They returned to the meeting room where Tenniel was already addressing her knights and comrades and telling them that Howe had bitten off more than he could chew, stretching his men thin and having to supplement them with mercenaries who had not one iota of loyalty to his cause.

Zevran admired her strategies as she addressed the concerns of each of the knights and freeholders assembled and gave them tips for surviving the winter and helping both their banns and the common folk that they were beholden too. The Antivan thought this was odd, considering that his country had the exact opposite attitude. But when she asked the two elves to stay behind when everyone filed out for dinner, he was especially attentive.

"Nolan, Robert. I understand your friends and families will have to endure exceptionally tough times over the next few months. Be straight with me. What's going on now?"

"Aye, my lady. With all the refugees pouring in from the south, there's been talk against the elven landowners." A meek-sounding elf with light brown hair tugged at this short ponytail as he addressed the Warden, trying his best to keep his focus above her neck.

The older elf crossed his arms and stared fixedly at the Warden, wondering why she had decided to talk to them apart from the rest of the group. "Ever since Howe took over the castle, the servants there have been mistreated. And as more and more humans arrive, many are fighting to find work and supplies. Some of our friends are retreating to the Alienage already, just to survive. My brother is the Hahren and it is his duty to see they are provided for to the extent that we can, but it is becoming very difficult as so many families are displaced."

Tenniel sighed and nodded. "I thought as much. Okay, please do this: Spread the word amongst the elves. As much as it pains me to admit it, the Highever Alienage will be a safe haven for you at this time. But I want you to make a record of each and every landowner and their property. It does no good to confront human violence with violence, and history has taught us this is a losing battle, especially if some of the bigoted fools have the backing of the chantry. Those who are not able to fight should definitely avoid confrontation."

"You don't have to convince us of that fact, m'lady," Robert interrupted.

"Make those records, and have someone deliver them here at winter's end. I will personally see that justice is done, or I will leave instructions to that effect if I am no longer amongst the living. Ferelden should not be allowed to use this Blight as an excuse to turn on its elven citizens. If they do, the offenders will be made to answer for their crimes and restitution shall be made, this I swear to the Maker."

"Thank you, m'lady," Nolan replied.

Robert nodded, hoping that her plan would work. "We will do as you advise." Both elves got up to leave, but Tenniel stopped them again and handed the older man a small leather pouch.

"Here's fifty sovereigns, Robert. I know it is not much, but I am confident you and your son will see that it is put to good use on food and supplies for those that need it. We are all in for a long winter. Pray we meet in better times."

"Aye, Lady Tenniel. Thank you very much. You're as thoughtful as ever, and wise beyond your years. Your generosity will not be forgotten. We will leave upon the morrow and return to Highever." The men bowed to the Warden and nodded at Zevran as they returned to the dining room.

* * *

The assassin pulled her to the side and wrapped his arms around her waist before she could follow them through the door. "You do realize that all of these people are going to want you to be their queen, right?" He whispered in her ear.

"Well, they'll be sorely disappointed. I don't mind stepping up in the absence of true leadership. But people like you and I are better off in the shadows. We make the hard choices and do the things that no one wants to dirty their hands with. And I'm quite comfortable with that role."

"Maybe. But everything changes." His hands were making small circles against her back, and she closed her eyes, savoring his touch.

"All the more reason to enjoy the moment, hmmm?" She moved back to lean against the wall and pulled him towards her, kissing him and trying to ease his concerns.

"I am worried that they will put too much pressure on you, my Warden. They will want you to be their ruler and pair you off with some idiot who isn't fit to hold your sword." He returned her kisses and breathed in the fragrance of her lavender and mint perfume.

"Do not worry." She sighed and smiled at him. "Just kiss me more often. I haven't felt this good since this morning. I would much rather fight than have to do all this talking."

"Is that a request, or an order?"

"Whichever you prefer."

"I prefer you to stop telling me what I should and should not worry about."

"Zevran. I promise, I'm not going to let anyone talk me into becoming their queen. These people will follow whoever I give my support to. Why are you suddenly so serious?" She ran her fingers through the hair that met his collar and looked at him questioningly.

"I am seriously not looking forward to guarding you from dozens of assassination attempts if your friends push you to make a bid for the crown, Tenniel."

"You already have my promise, my sweet. Besides, do you honestly think I would put my children through that? It's bad enough I've had to hide them away now. Think what would happen when they get older. No, I will not become Queen and have some spy discover who their real father was. I will not have them put through the pain of other nobles treating them like lesser people if they figure out they're half elven before they're old enough to defend themselves. Why do you think I haven't even courted anyone in three years?"

"You mean to tell me that before last night, you had not had sex in three years?"

"No, I've had a casual dalliance or two. But not anyone I've spent more than a few hours with. But that's beside the point, though." She gave a frustrated sound as he kissed her neck and his hands groped her cleavage.

_This man is so maddening! How can he talk about serious things and tease me like this? _"Look, I really don't want to ever be Queen of Ferelden, Zevran. So I'm not going to." She wanted that to be the end of the discussion, but he wasn't going to let her have the last word so easily.

He stared into her eyes. "Sometimes we all have to do things we do not really want to do. You are very good at this 'being a leader' thing, and others can see this too. I said that I would follow you, that I am your man for as long as you would have me. So I need to know what you want to do. What is it that you really want?"

He wasn't sure why he was being so direct with her, but something about the way her knights and freeholders were looking at her the past few hours made him want to protect her. The former Crow knew it was a moot point if she was going to run headlong into trouble. Her next words caught him completely off guard, though.

"I… want you, Zevran. I just want to take care of my family and be with you."

_Damn it. I always said I couldn't resist a woman who knows what she wants, but this is crazy. She can't mean…_ "You had me last night. So… hey! Stop looking at me like that!"

"Why? Surely I'm not the first person who has wanted to be with the great Zevran. And you know what I'm talking about. This is not about mixing business with pleasure. This is life."

"No, but the Crows could still be after us. You know what I mean. You cannot… I am an assassin, Tenniel."

"So am I."

"Yes, but you are so much more!"

"And so are you! Do you think that just because you were sold as a child and forced to become a murderer for hire, that you don't deserve someone to care for you… to want to be with you for more than just a few nights? Don't let them win, Zevran. Don't let them make you think you're worthless. You are a treasure, a precious gift. It's about time you realize that, my handsome brown-skinned assassin." Tenniel touched the tattooed side of his face and kissed him softly.

He felt like someone was squeezing his chest too hard, like he couldn't breathe. Zevran tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but instead his feet carried him outside and into the grassy yard and left her standing there against the wall.

_How dare she call me her sweet and make me feel this way!_ Once again, she had turned the tables on him and forced him to acknowledge having actual feelings. The former Crow looked down at his arm and wondered why it was getting wet. _Am I crying? Dear Maker, what do I do now? I am not supposed to have a heart._


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Tenniel didn't want to have to sit through dinner with her friends and pretend that everything was fine. So she bypassed the dining hall and snuck into the kitchen. Regina took one look at her face and told her to sit down and relax.

"Where is Zevran?" Jeanelle asked.

"Oh, he's probably gone by now. My mouth got ahead of my brain and I scared him off by telling him that I cared about him." The Warden shrugged and put her hand under her chin in a moping gesture.

"I highly doubt that he's really _gone_, gone." Regina countered.

"Maybe not, but let's face it. Romance must be my sworn enemy, cause I'm always killing it." She and Walter laughed at her pathetic joke until tears were streaming down their faces.

Regina and Jeanelle shook their heads and rolled their eyes at them before dishing out a generous portion of mutton, potatoes and peas. Ironically, Tenniel instantly thought of how much better the combination was here, compared to anything Alistair ever tried to cook up. She smiled to herself as she watched Kayla and Darren play with their food as they ate. _I've got to stay focused. Romance comes and goes, but _this_ is why I'm here. I can finish this quest, with or without a partner._

"Hey, Reggie, Jeanelle - why don't you two run along and spend some time together. Dada and I will watch the kids for a few hours until it's their bedtime."

"Really? Thanks!" The highlander's daughter kissed her Dalish sweetheart and held her hand as they headed out the door, eager to take advantage of a few moments of privacy.

Terri followed Jeanelle and Regina as they walked out the door to their living quarters at the north wing of the keep. The mabari turned in the opposite direction to look for Zevran and found him sitting on the back porch steps of the cottage, staring at the face of the mountain.

_She's right, Zevran. Just like Rinna was right. I can't let them win. Not again._

* * *

_An hour has passed, so he wakes her up with a kiss. It amazes him how she always falls asleep after they make love, even in the middle of the day._

"_You'd better go before it starts to get dark. Master Varkel will not show mercy. Do you want me to get you some water so you can clean up again?" _

"_No, I like smelling like you." She laughs as she puts her shift back on. Zevran brushes her waist-length raven tresses and braids her hair, looping it back under and out of the way. She turns around and regards him seriously for a moment as he crosses the room to place the brush back in his dresser. "You know Zevran, I must tell you. The Masters, they wanted me to bed you… to find out what makes you tick, what's made you stay a Crow for over thirty years and keep going. But I tell them nothing."_

_He spins on his heel angrily, squeezing the brush so hard the ridges in the bone handle are sure to make an imprint on his hand. "Am I supposed to thank you for this?"_

"_No. No! Zevran, they can all burn in hell. They can't make me sully this. I've been here these past few months because I want to be."_

"_Ah, yes. So _many_ want to be with Zevran." He laughs haughtily, but it sounds bitter even to his own ears._

"_Stop it! That's not what I meant, and you know it. You're a wonderful man."_

"_I am a Crow. Nothing more."_ Best not to even dream about being something more_. Hope is so easily destroyed, whether it be from the stroke of a whip against his flesh or the plunge of a dagger into a partner and friend..._

'_You are a Crow. You do not have a heart. You are not allowed to love. You are not allowed to dream. You are not allowed to hope. You will kill without remorse and you will do everything that you are ordered to do. The Guild is all you have. And you don't even deserve that much, you worthless scum. _Always remember that you are a Crow - nothing more_**.**__'_

_...That was what his first master had taught him, and that is the mantra he lives by._

_She clinches her fists and stomps her foot against the warped slats of the well-worn wooden floor for emphasis as she shouts back at him. "No! Stop it! Don't let them win. You are worth far more than that, and you deserve much more than this." _

_Rinna does not want to give up. She lowers her voice somewhat. "You know, I'm twenty-four years old Zevran, and no one has ever given me a hug and not wanted something in return, let alone a massage. I'm not afraid to admit it. I love you."_

_He gasps and his eyes widen, those three little words frightening him far more than the thought of being under the scrutiny of any Masters once again. The Crow rubs his temple in an exasperated gesture before finally replying to the girl. "No, you stop. We are not talking about this. Just leave, now. I do not want to see any more lash scars on your beautiful skin, my dear."_

_She stares at him, suddenly tearful for the first time in his presence. "I… fine. Goodbye. See you in a couple days." Rinna sniffles and runs out the door, banging it against the back wall as she clamors down the stairwell._

* * *

_And the next time we met, I let her die._

"Ah, Terri the Terror, you've found me at last, eh boy? What is your wonderful mistress up to now?"

The mabari put one of his huge front paws on Zevran's knee and whimpered, cocking his head to the side.

_Damn it. Even the dog knows I am being an idiot. Time to quit being a baby, Zevran._ "So you think I should stop sulking about and just go be with this woman who seems to care so much for such a worthless assassin?"

Terri barked once, put his paw down, turned around in a circle and barked again.

"All right, all right. Zevran can take a hint. I am right behind you, my giant canine friend."

* * *

"Eat the rest of your sweet peas, too," the Warden insisted.

"But they're nasty!" Darren retorted with a grimace.

"Yeah, they're yucky! Like dirt!" his sister added.

Tenniel shook her head at her children. "Oh, come on, now. They're not that bad, you two. Trust me, I've tasted dirt a few times."

"No!" her son yelled.

"Not gonna!" Kayla put her spoon down and crossed her arms in a defiant gesture.

"Little boys and girls who don't eat their vegetables get fed to the lake monsters," she teased. "Why, just this morning, I saw a long-necked water dragon nibbling on a little boy with bright yellow hair when I came over on Kester's ferry." Tenniel winked at Zevran as he entered through the door with Terri close on his heels.

"Oh, yes, I saw it too. Tragic, that was. Absolutely tragic. We tried to help him, but he struggled and cried 'If only I had eaten my peas and spinach!' right before the beast swallowed him whole and disappeared into the icy water. Ah, I'm afraid there is no hope for you, little ones." He watched as the Warden tried to hide her chuckles behind her hand at his overly dramatic performance.

"Nah-uh!" Kayla and Darren were wide-eyed with denial as they turned toward Zevran, who managed to keep a straight face the entire time. When the assassin shrugged and put his hands up in the air, the toddlers looked at each other before immediately eating their mashed potato and pea mixture, getting their faces even more messy in the process.

"Well, lad. I say you can visit us for dinner anytime with skills like that. Here, have some roast lamb while it's still hot."

Zevran noted that the silver-haired soldier moved around quite well for someone with a peg leg. He reminded the assassin of one of the pirates in Isabella's crew that would frequent the dockside brothels.

"Thank you. All that mountain climbing we did this morning has given me a bit of an appetite lately."

"And that's why you don't see any fat-arsed highlanders. Alright, come on, my little sunshine twins. Dada is going to check on the horses with Roderick. Let's clean up and go for a walk."

"Horsies!" The two youngsters scrambled over to the sink and stepped onto a short stool to dip their hands into the washbasin. It was just a little out of their reach, and Zevran watched with curiosity as they slowly pulled the basin towards themselves. _Strange. Why would these Fereldans put wheels on a sink?_

After the trio left, Tenniel and the assassin finished most of their dinner before she finally broke the silence. "The Maker broke the mould when he made you, Zevran. 'If only I had eaten my peas and spinach!' A story-telling professional, you are."

"But of course. How else could I put myself to sleep at night, hmmm?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh, I bet you have plenty of bedtime stories to tell!"

"Hmmm… yes, let me think. Once there was a travelling circus with a set of especially limber triplets. Oh, the way those little elven beauties could move and twist their arms and legs!" He laughed devilishly, and Tenniel wondered whether the story was true or an exaggeration.

"I'm sorry, Zevran. There is no doubt that I am terrible at expressing feelings." The Warden changed the subject abruptly.

The Antivan put down his fork but refused to make eye contact. "What are you saying you're sorry for?" he asked quietly.

"Because what I _meant_ to tell you was that I care about you. Very much. And what you think matters to me a great deal. I'm not going to let anyone push me into being Ferelden's Queen, okay?"

He reached across the table, held her hand and took a deep breath before looking into her bright emerald eyes. "Tenniel, whatever you decide is fine with me. But this… expressing things… no. I think I would rather fight ten ogres than talk about this."

"Then we don't have to talk about it. I would gladly fight a hundred ogres than face the thought of you leaving."

"What? Me leaving… Tenniel, I _will not_ leave you. Not willingly. Never that. 'Until such time as you release me.' I swore an oath, remember?" He got up from the table and quickly moved next to her.

"But I thought…"

"Look, I was raised to become a heartless killer. I was taught to never trust, never care, never regret. That no matter how skilled I am, I am still not worth a damned thing. I have never owned property or had anything that I could truly call my own. So the only thing I can give you is my word. And I am telling you, I meant what I said. I will stay by your side, as long as you will have me. This I swear, and I shall swear it again."

Tenniel stood up and hugged him, unable to stop a few tears from sliding down her cheeks as he held her tightly and rubbed her back. "Thank you, Zevran. Your word is all I need."

Zevran smiled and gathered up their empty plates to place them in the sink. "Brasca! Warden, your children are freakishly strong. This sink is _not_ on wheels." His eyes demanded answers.

"Of course you would notice that as well. Let's go to the sitting room so I can tell you about this freakish strength that Kayla and Darren have inherited from me."

* * *

She seemed nervous, so he stretched out along the couch and laid his head in her lap to try and prove to her that he didn't seem to be anxious about this in the least. He even let her undo his braid and run her fingers through his loose, wavy tresses to set her mind at ease.

"So, strength five times that of a normal man and near limitless stamina. Plus the ability to learn skills much more quickly. What's the down side?" he looked up at her, reaching underneath her shirt-dress to caress her thigh.

"For one, the process is painful. And the resulting violent tendencies and increased… appetites can cause the person who receives the gift to engage in socially unacceptable behavior. That's a nice way of saying you could go crazy or end up being a mass murdering monster or rapist. And that's why most civilized societies wipe out any dragon cults as soon as they're discovered. But going mad… that's never happened to Walter or any of his original band of soldiers."

"What happened to his… other soldiers?" Zevran asked.

"They all died in the rebellion against Orlais. The battle of White River was especially brutal."

"Isn't it a bit odd for a highlander to be such close friends with Fereldan noblemen? They're called Avvars, right?"

"Yes, that's true, Walter is an Avvarian Hillsman. But the clan that he married into, Peakhold… they were all but wiped out by the Orlesians during the occupation. He and his wife survived, fled to the lowlands and eventually helped defend a childless landowner. When he died, he didn't have an heir, so the man gave his lands and title to Walter as thanks. That's how an Avvarian became a member of the gentry, as much as he hates to admit it. But he's been a loyal Ferelden citizen, and none of the other clans bother him at all."

"And he's very much like a father to you, it seems."

"Well, yes. I was adopted into their clan, too. Walter has always been there for me, for as long as I can remember…"

* * *

"_Tenniel, pay attention!" Brother Aldous scolded her again._

"_Why should I? I've already learnt all about the Cousland family history. And when I grow up, I'm going to be a strong warrior just like Teyrna Elethea, 'cept I'm not gonna starve out my armies by traveling in the wintertime."_

"_Hold your tongue, girl. There's much more to learn here besides battles and war strategy… hey, get back here! Do I have to send for the Teyrna again? Tenniel Cousland, return here this instant!" The usually composed scholar was once again flabbergasted by his charge's disobedience and lack of respect. She was even more of a handful than her brother was at his age._

_The youngest Cousland scampered out of the library, down the hallway, past the main hall and snuck out towards the guards' quarters. She loved to spy on the men practicing in the courtyard. The sound of metal clanging against metal was certainly better than any boring history lesson. Especially one that didn't have any fighting in it. Tenniel reached up along the corner of the south wall and began to climb, her calloused little hands easily finding the nooks and crannies in the rock, just as Roland had taught her two summers ago._

_The courtyard was her special place, where she could sit and watch things and hide from the grown-ups. Special things, like the first time her father had let Fergus use the family sword. Fun things, like watching one of the kitchen elf's daughters steal a purse from a member of the Howe's visiting knights. _

_And then there were things that made her feel confused and sad, like the time she saw her mother kissing some strange man wearing mage robes. She never told anyone about that. Just like she never told anyone about the scullery maid crying in the corner at night when her brother's friends visited from West Hills. Her brow furrowed as she remembered watching the elven girl last week. She had almost crossed the flagstones to ask her what was the matter, but Regina had interrupted her on the way down from the wall, scolding her and telling her it was way past her bedtime. _

_Regina, Roland and Walter were the only ones who knew about the hiding spot, and so far, they hadn't told her mother anything. So she watched and waited and giggled behind her hands when she saw the new squire drop his dagger after clumsily striking Ser Walter Gilmore's shield. The older man sighed, shook his head and mumbled something to the scrawny young nobleman, dismissing him with a final nod toward the guards' quarters._

_But now she was starting to get thirsty. She carefully snuck back down the wall, trying to be as silent as possible and blend in with the shadows. No one ever looked up. That's what Roland always said. She wondered where he was at the moment. Probably stuck at the chantry chapel, being forced to memorize yet another senseless phrase from that Chant of Light. _

_Sister Mallol had tried to make her sit still and repeat the same words over and over again, but she ran screaming out of there last time with a complaint about her head hurting. Her mother had said it often enough, so she decided it was a good subterfuge. No one bothered to try and fetch a healer, either. She'd have to remember that trick the next time Teyrna Eleanor told her to practice walking in a straight line with a book on her head. None of the fighters in the history texts ever had their mother scolding them about good posture._

_Walter sat the shield near the floor and moved towards the wall to head back down the hallway. That's when she decided to spring her trap. She closed her eyes and waited until the tap-tap sound of his peg leg and walking stick against the stones was loudest, then she opened them and pounced. Tenniel landed with a satisfied 'oof' sound onto his shoulders, her thin tunic failing to protect her arms from chafing against the metal straps on his drakeskin leather as she wrapped them around his shoulders and clung to his back._

"_I got you!" She laughed, her giggles turning to high-pitched shrieks as the man quickly recovered and grabbed her off of his back. He tickled her belly, then swung her around and she looked up at her guard, breathless with excitement._

"_Aye, lass. That ye did. Blimey! You trying to give a veteran a case of the fits? Don't sneak up on an old dog."_

"_But it's fun!"_

"_Aye, that it is, until you wind up with a dagger twixt your ribs. Aren't you supposed to be getting another lesson from Brother Aldous? What sort of mischief are you up to now, hmm? Come on, fess up!"_

_She shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing! I'm not doing anything."_

"_Oh, really?" He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at her obvious lie._

"_Umm… yeah, really." She looked up at him and then sighed, realizing he wasn't about to let it go. "All right, all right. I was bored, so I left!"_

"_Again? You'll end up being an imbecile if you keep neglecting your lessons."_

"_But Fergus doesn't have to…"_

"_Enough! Fergus had to listen to much of the same when he was your age. And he's off learning how to be a proper Teyrn now, so don't go comparing yourself to him. Your brother has problems of his own. You, on the other hand…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Hmmph. You don't need to be sneakin' about, that's for sure. Getting too good at it, if you ask me." The raven-haired fighter rubbed his beard and chuckled at the girl._

"_I'm thirsty. Do you have any water? I can't go back in the kitchens today. Nan's still mad at me for stealing some of the topping off the sweetcakes before she served them last night."_

_He gestured her to follow as he retrieved his cane, crossed the courtyard, and grabbed a canteen off one of the benches near a thick stone column. "She's still mad about that? You sure know how to put rocks under her mattress, that's for sure."_

"_What?" She gulped down the water and rubbed the excess from her lips in a very un-ladylike manner._

"_Nothing. Don't get any ideas. Drink your fill, lass. And when you're done, I want you to come at me with this, like you're really going to fight me." He handed her the same blunted dagger she had seen the squire attempt to fight with a few minutes earlier. _

"_Really? This is brilliant! Wait'll I tell Roland, I get to fight! Thanks, da!" She gripped the leather-wrapped red steel handle in her right hand and thrust it forward before turning quickly to a lower part of the man's body which the shield was not protecting._

"_Hahaha, I'm not your da, Tenniel. The Teyrn's a good father. And he's done a lot for our country, lass." He quickly blocked her with the practice shield, glad to see that she pulled back at the last moment and didn't waste her energy on hitting the round piece of wood. The girl was awkward and skittish, but at least she kept her dagger in hand. She was teachable and would make a good pupil if she had the attention span for it._

"_Yeah, but father's never here. He doesn't care what I do. He doesn't care about me." Tenniel breathed out as she tried to strike him again, this time closer to his waist._

"_If he doesn't care, why'd he leave this old bear in charge of your safety, hmm? Enough of that foolish talk. Your father's busy with trade agreements and making sure we can all stay free and well-fed while the rest of the nobles peck at each other like a flock of wounded chickens. I won't hear such talk from an ungrateful pup. He's the Teyrn and your brother's learning to be the same. So get your anger out now before it burns you up inside and gets you into more trouble."_

"_I'm not angry. I don't care!" She spun around with the blade and swept low, almost hitting his left shin before the shield intervened and blocked her at the last second._

"_Sure, lass. You're not angry at all. Don't know what I was thinking." The man sighed again. The years of experience dealing with his teenaged daughter, Regina, were priceless. He looked closely at Tenniel's slumped shoulders and the way she frowned at the mention of her father. "Tomorrow's your tenth birthday, isn't it?"_

_She stopped and looked up at him, gripping her dagger tightly as he held his shield out in front of her. "Yes." She looked down at his dark leather boots. "But it doesn't matter." She added quietly._

"_Course not. You're too old and tough to worry about that stuff anymore, right? I tell you what. How's about you train with me and Roland for the next month until the Teyrn gets back from Denerim with Fergus. Then you can show him what a good fighter you've become while he's gone, al lright?"_

"_I don't care what he thinks! I'm going to be a _great_ fighter! Better than Fergus. Better than anybody in Ferelden! You'll see!"_

"_Well, well. I reckon that'll take a lot longer than just a month. You've got to be committed to it. You've got to listen to what me and the other adults are saying when we're trying to teach you things. And you've got to get a lot stronger. Better get started now, eh?"_

"_Aye, let's do it. Will you? Will you train me to be a real fighter? Please, Ser Walter…"_

"_I can't go and say no to a sensible request like that, can I? Let's get started. Now remember, how much muscle you've got isn't as important as how much you've got up here. " He made a fist with his left arm and pointed to his bicep, then tapped his index finger to his head. "Knowledge is power, lass. First lesson. You've got to watch your opponent. Put that dagger away and let me show you how to fight without one. It's all about leverage…"_

* * *

"Yes, I respect him a lot. And I'm fairly certain that my children and I wouldn't be alive today, if it wasn't for him. He is a good mentor, and a great friend."

"You are very lucky to have had someone like him looking after you. We Crows… well, let's just say that none of the masters who assisted in my training were worth my regard. And they're all dead now. There are no old Crows." He sighed and wrapped his arm around her waist. "But we were discussing the dragon cults, were we not?"

"Yes. In the town where he grew up, the Reavers there just drink the blood instead of having it injected directly into their bloodstream by a healer. And they keep on drinking the blood of adolescent dragons, which is substantially weaker than that of a high dragon. So most of them are nowhere near as strong as Walter or me."

"And they're the ones we are going to have to fight to get to that Urn of Sacred Ashes, right?"

"Yep." She sighed as she rubbed his chest and shoulders.

"Well, it is good to know that just being a Grey Warden isn't what's made you so strong. I was beginning to think that poor Alistair got the short end of the stick in that bargain." Zevran rolled over on his stomach so she could work on his neck and shoulders. He was happy to give her hands something to do.

She chuckled softly and bent down to kiss the tip of his ear. "Yes, poor Alistair is a normal Grey Warden. Powerful in his own right, but not a freak like me."

"Ah, the most beautiful freak I have ever had the pleasure of pleasuring. But seriously, how painful are we talking about, here? Not that I'm one to complain about a little pain, of course."

"Well, not as painful as getting stretched out on the racks like I saw you in the Fade." She chuckled at his raised eyebrow. "The process only lasts a few minutes. I got through it just fine. It was… odd. Like someone was trying to freeze my skin and burn it at the same time. And then there was the shaking fits. I think my body was trying to fight against it somehow. But Walter can explain more about it. He was there with me the entire time, he and his wife, Maggie. The hard part is the vivid dreams, and the fits of rage right afterwards. I felt like I had to either kill something or…" _Or fuck something._

"Anyway, someone who isn't good at controlling their emotions before the process would have much more trouble doing so afterwards. I know you'll be fine, Zevran."

The assassin closed his eyes and smiled. _I could get used to having this woman pamper me all day. _"That must be why so many people go crazy from it. And somehow, I get the feeling this is _not_ something women usually do."

"Yes, you're right about both things. The only reason why Walter agreed to have it done to me is because I pretty much forced his hand after I followed his dragon-hunting expedition up here. I was sixteen and hotheaded and almost died. But he made a promise to my father to look after me, so making me stronger was the one way to ensure I survived that week." Her eyes clouded with remembered pain.

"It was bad, I take it?"

"Yes, but I have no regrets about it now. After the first night, the worst nightmares only happen occasionally. And again, we're not going to have you drink the blood." She shuddered, thinking of the taint she was forced to gulp down at the joining ritual.

"What?"

"Nothing, just thinking of the Grey Wardens' Joining ritual. I'm not supposed to talk about it. But the process is very similar."

"Ah yes, Grey Warden secrets. I will respect that."

"Thank you. Just talk to Walter when he gets back with the children. I'm not going to bother telling you not to worry. Just know that if you decide to do this, I'm going to be there with you the entire. And Jeanelle will be monitoring your vital signs. We won't let anything terrible happen to you, and I won't let you do anything you'll regret afterwards. I give you my word."

He nuzzled his head against her bosom and stretched out before he sat up and kissed her. "I know you won't. And I have already made up my mind. A good rogue uses all the tools at their disposal to get the upper hand in battle. How could I reject an opportunity like this? In fact, I am honored that you would consider sharing this with me."

Tenniel let him put his arm around her shoulders and snuggled up next to him. "It is both a gift and a curse, Zevran. Remember that."_ Just like love is. It feels so wonderful, but it makes you weak and vulnerable, and that much worse off when it's gone._

"Ah, but there are two sides to every coin, _mi corazón_. We take the good with the bad and hope it's not so very bad after all, no?"

"Hmmm… I like your attitude."

"Is that all you like? Come here, you look so tired…" He started kissing her again and massaging her neck and shoulders, and soon she relaxed and gave in to the wonderful feeling of just being there with him. _No matter what happens tonight, I will do my best to make sure you have more good than bad, my beautiful assassin. No regrets._


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14**_

The assassin smiled as she nuzzled against his chest. His Warden had dozed off while he was massaging her back. Being with her friends and family seemed to have put her at ease, but he still thought she was acting like someone who was stressed out. Tenniel had obviously worked hard the past few years to ensure her children and their caretakers were provided for, and rather richly at that. But he suspected that she had probably done so at the cost of her own well-being.

She flinched, grabbed his arm closer to her bosom and then slowly opened her eyes. He chuckled softly, amused at her reaction. "Tired already? The night is still young."

They were in the sitting room of their cottage and the soft curve of her hip was resting in between his legs as she faced the back of the couch, laying with her face and shoulder against his chest. He thought they would probably have to meet up with the rest of her family soon if this ritual was going to be performed that night.

"No, I'm not really tired. Just taking a catnap." She held up his right hand to her left, and she marveled at the fact that it was actually so much bigger than hers. Most of the elves she had encountered over the years seemed to be small-boned and delicate. But Zevran, he was definitely not any of those words. Everything from his broad chest to the lean, hard muscles of his arms and legs to the warm and inviting shoulder she was lying against – everything about him screamed male and safety to her.

Tenniel realized with a start that the only reason why she was an inch taller than her assassin was because her legs were slightly longer. Her slender muscles were used to moving quickly and wielding two blades, but years of hard work and training couldn't erase the fact that she was a woman with soft curves. If Zevran were to undergo the high dragon blood ritual, there was no doubt that he would be stronger than her. And she felt more than comfortable with that. Tenniel kissed the palm of his calloused hand and turned to look up at him with a shy smile.

"Hmmm? What is it, my Warden?" He was reminded of the first day they met, after she had reassured her fellow travelers that he was not going to murder them after they fell asleep. She was so relaxed and carefree while talking with him near the campfire that he finally gave in and started answering her questions about Antiva and his life as a Crow.

_They had been leaning against a fallen tree trunk, laughing at some story that he was telling her about a mage and his first mission, and at one point she grabbed his arm in an intimate gesture, as if they were familiar friends. By the time she realized what she had done, he had already reached out to touch her check. She had retreated with a shy smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. Zevran knew right then and there that he would keep pursuing her affections for as long as she would allow it. _

"Nothing. Let's go rinse off so we can take a dip in the hot springs. It'll feel so good against your old bones. You'll love it!" She sprang up from the couch cushions and reached down to pull him up beside her.

"Old bones, eh? I'll show you a bone, alright! I may be twice your age, but I think I can still give you a run for your money, little girl," he teased her as they walked into the bedroom.

"Oh, I think we already know that much. Twice my age, huh? Just how old are you, Zevran Arainai?"

"Forty-three, this past summer." He cringed when he heard her whistle at his remark.

"Hot damn! You're such a sexy, swaggering bundle of cocky pride _now_ - you had to have been a bloody _terror_ when you were a younger. And how is it that you're forty-three… you keep saying you've been with the Crows three decades. But you also said they bought you when you were seven. So what's with the missing years, Arl Studly?"

"Arl Studly? What is that supposed to mean?" Zevran knew Common very well, but he was not quite sure what studly meant.

Tenniel giggled at him as she took off her boots. "Oh, that's _so_ going to be someone's new nickname from now on!" She caught him looking at her reproachfully with one hand on his hip and she giggled again. "Out with it – what'd you do in those missing years, gorgeous?"

"I… all right, all right, I'll admit that it was perhaps a little more than just three decades with the Crows. But I was with the Dalish from the time I was thirteen, until I was seventeen. I traveled with them for four years, learned their culture and their ways… and… I was never good enough, Tenniel." He confided to her, suddenly serious.

She saw his expression and her heart went out to him. The Warden hadn't intended to open any old wounds by asking him the seemingly innocent question about his age. She stood up and crossed the room to give him a comforting hug.

"What do you mean? You're better than good enough!" _How dare someone make him feel that way!_ She kissed his cheek and neck, clearly more disturbed than he was about events from his past.

The assassin sighed deeply before replying. "No. I… I became infatuated with the Master Craftsman's daughter. She was feisty, proud, strong…"

"Oh, boy. I see a tragic pattern developing here." The Warden tried to add some levity to his conversation.

Zevran chuckled and continued. "I do seem to go for the strong types, don't I?" He gently extricated himself from her embrace and sat on the side of the bed to remove his boots.

"Leelah was a couple years older than me, and a very skilled bow-woman. She bragged that no one was able to best her, and that she would never choose a mate unless that man could shoot farther and faster than she did. So, I had the audacity to challenge her when I turned seventeen. When I won fair and square, she was happy, but her father was not about to see his daughter sullied by a flat-ear. He told me to forget it ever happened."

Tenniel walked towards a closet, unbuckled her belt and hung her garments on a hook after she slipped out of her dress. "What? But that's _crazy_, Zevran. Your mother was Dalish, and… and you're obviously an elf. How could he say something like that? And you were only a teenager!"

He laughed and smiled at her concern for his feelings. "Even amongst the elves, there is prejudice, my dear. I am sure Jeanelle could tell you more of this. But I had had it up to here with the Dalish and all their rules and moral judgments. More the fool was I for having run away to their clan to escape the rules of the Crows. Every time I saw yet another eligible young woman bonding with some sap of a mediocre-skilled hunter instead of me, I knew that being with their tribe was not meant for my life. Leelah was just the last straw."

"So what did you do then?" She tugged off her smallclothes and tied her hair into a loose ponytail.

"After that I had seen and done enough. I realized that the hunting skills I had picked up over the years would serve me just as well when I returned to Antiva City as a Crow. So I had a quick and hurried affair with the Craftsman's older son – which was even more scandalous, let me tell you that. Then I returned to the ranks of the Crows, after being put through some severe tests and trials, of course."

"Yeah, well, maybe those Dalish were just jealous of you. Or afraid you'd damage their young maidens. You _are_ pretty well-endowed, Zevran." She winked at him before moving back to his side of the bed.

"Hahaha! You saucy little minx! I suppose I am well-hung as you say, for an elf." He took off his shirt and started unbuckling his belt.

"Ah, correction, dear. You're well-hung for a human. I mean, you can compete with a qunari - and you're a third of their body size. You're _very_ well-endowed. Not to mention, thick and juicy, too." She licked her lips and caressed the scars and tattoos on his shoulder. "When you're fully rock-hard, if I were an elf maiden, I'd be running away from you scared and screaming."

"What? I assure you, I have been very gentle with all my elven lovers. Although now that you mention it… eh, I've never bothered to measure anything. What is the point, really?" He reached for her, but she dodged and skipped away, teasing him with a playful grin.

Tenniel opened one of the closets and pulled a few candles off the top shelf. She closed the bright blue and green window curtains across from their bed and ran her hand along the smooth granite stones of the adjacent wall, remembering when she had helped set them as a teenager.

"You're right, it really doesn't matter in the long run. And you are very gentle, Zevran. I practically had to beg you to _not_ be gentle with me." She used the existing candle to ignite the oil lamps in the bathroom and bedroom, and then she returned to the bedroom, bending down to light a candle next to a small night stand at the bedside.

"Yes, well, it's nice to not have to be so gentle with you all the time." He pulled off his breeches and reached out to wrap his arms around her waist when she stood back up, looking her in the eyes before he kissed her again.

"And it is wonderful to have a nice warm sheath that fits my entire sword." Zevran pressed his lower body against her so she could feel his growing hardness through his smallclothes.

The Warden giggled mischievously. "You are so naughty! What am I going to do with you?"

"Yes, well, _you_ are the one who started talking about my penis. Here you are standing naked in front of me, and you wonder why he is waking up?"

"Who's waking up? Oh, yes - Ser Studly's definitely awake!" She ran the palm of her hand along the length of this cock and reached down to gently massage his balls.

Zevran gasped and chuckled at her. "Do we even have time for this now, woman?"

"Mmmm… yes. Maybe. Feeling up to a quickie? I already know you're good for hours."

"Hours, minutes, days… as long as the lady is satisfied."

"Well, this lady isn't satisfied until you are. So do you want to fuck me, or what?" She grabbed one of her breasts and fondled her nipple with her right hand while leisurely reaching down with her left hand to slip her middle finger into her slit. Her eyes were on Zevran the entire time, and she propped her foot up on the edge of the bed to give him a better view of her trim blond patch before sliding two fingers into herself.

His cock sprung up even higher, and she grinned at him before pushing her breast up to her mouth and licking her nipple, shamelessly pleasuring herself before him. The Warden watched him eyeing her lasciviously until he finally took off his smallclothes. She released her breast and slowly rubbed her hand down the curve of her body.

Tenniel brought her left index and middle fingers up to her lips and slurped them noisily, smiling as she teased him. "I want to feel your cock pounding inside of me, and I want you to shoot your load all over my tits and watch me lick it off. We can take our time tonight. But right now, I want to feel you fucking me hard and fast."

Zevran stared at her, entranced by her audacity and the site of her erotic pose. Antivan women did not say such things. Especially not to him, and especially not if they were noblewomen. _Is this the same polite, proper lady who addressed the Arl of Redcliffe's family last week and spoke to the bannorn's representatives today? _Somehow, the fact that she was looking at his eyes and not his body made her all the more irresistible.

"…Unless you want to punish me by making me wait." She pouted, and yelped with surprise as he abruptly pulled both of her arms up over her head and turned her around. Zevran wrapped his right hand around her neck and forced her to walk backwards until her back was pressed against the cool granite wall.

Tenniel was amazed that he wasn't squeezing or hurting her; if she wanted to, she knew she could release herself from his grip without a problem. Somehow, the fact that her assassin wasn't being rough or forceful with her made him seem all the more endearing to her. He was still letting her decide. "Do you _want_ to punish me?" She asked him with hope shining in her eyes.

The assassin had finally figured out what she wanted, and he almost laughed. All the subtle little hints she had given, and it had still taken him, the Crow Master of Seduction, over a day to solve the puzzle. He gave her a wicked grin as he kept replaying the events of the past day: the way she had practically begged him to be rough with her their first night, how she had gotten down on her knees for him and said she didn't mind if he held her head while she pleased him with her mouth. Her constant squirming and moving around when he wanted her to be still until finally he had told her he would tie her up. Her screams of pleasure when he had finally obliged her. Zevran was reminded of how he would often tease and cajole Taliesin into getting angry with him just to have the sense of control when he forced the man to react. His Warden was doing the exact opposite.

He knew that it would be his undoing. There was no way he could pretend or lie to himself that he could ever walk away from her when their quest was done. All of the time spent on the receiving end of the lash, the cane, the whip, the rack – the sadistic men and women who had used and abused him and treated him like an object – he hated every minute of it, and they knew it. It was only later, when he learned to control his reactions and not give them the satisfaction of seeing his pain did he get a reprieve.

Zevran had always wanted to be the one doling out the pain, the one hearing the sweet, plaintive cries for more from someone who actually enjoyed such treatment. And now this beautiful Warden was asking him if he wanted to punish her. He almost wept out of sheer joy.

"Do you know what you're doing to me, woman?" His voice was hoarse with need, a whisper of silk against her collarbone.

"Mmmhmmm." She stared into his eyes, and then nodded very slowly. He kissed her lips and released her arms before switching hands so his left palm was lightly clasped around her neck instead. The Antivan gathered her hair and wrapped the end of it around his right hand.

"Good. But we do not have enough time for me to punish you properly. I will go easy on you, for now." He tenderly kissed the side of her jaw, released her neck and then smacked her left breast, watching it bounce and jiggle against the other one as she gave another surprised yelp.

"You're mine. On your knees, bitch! Zevran will show you what happens to barbarian sluts with filthy mouths." He growled at her and slapped her ass with his free hand.

"Yes, Master," she replied, quickly. Tenniel obediently sank down to the rug and freed his cock from his smallclothes, licking a bit of pre-cum off with the tip of her tongue. She heard him groan with pleasure as her mouth eagerly engulfed his manhood and she stroked him with both hands.

Everything from the hard stones digging into her knees that were barely cushioned by the thick woolen carpets to the feel of her nipples and breasts pressed against his legs was an exquisite torture. She licked and sucked his cock for a minute, then gasped as he firmly yanked on her hair, forcing her to look up at him.

Zevran sneered down at her. "Did I say you could touch me or take my smallclothes off? You _will_ learn obedience. Do not do anything unless I tell you to do it! Do I make myself clear, little slave?"

"Yes, Master." She was getting extremely turned on by his haughty commands and the smoldering look in his eyes. Tenniel touched her clit and arched her back as he tugged on her pony tail yet again. _Damn, I really shouldn't have given him such a convenient handle._

"Did I say you could touch yourself, you wanton hussy? Did you think I would not see you trying to pleasure yourself? Put your hands to your sides. Now get up! Get on that bed, now!" He yanked on her hair as she stood up, then he pushed her face-first onto the mattress when she hesitated somewhat.

Zevran still had her hair in his grasp but he was careful not to pull it too roughly. Her exquisitely round and inviting ass was now up in the air and positioned perfectly for him. He smacked one cheek, and then the other, watching with satisfaction as his handprints first turned a bloodless white upon her creamy skin, then red after ten seconds of forceful spanking. The Warden started whimpering a little, and he laughed at her. _The fates have given you a gift, Zevran. She is going to be a joy to train._

"Are you whimpering? Did I say you could make a noise?" He reached under her to pinch one of her nipples, satisfied when she barely made a squeak.

"N-no, Master. I'm sorry, Master…"

The Antivan released her hair, then spread her legs wider by sticking his knee in between them and put two fingers against her very moist pussy. He rubbed them up and down her labia and then pushed his index finger into her. "Look at this. So very wet already. Here, taste yourself. Clean my finger off, you disobedient little slut."

Zevran pressed his cockhead against her inviting opening, but he didn't enter her. She squirmed again, then started sucking and licking his finger as he once again spanked her.

Tenniel moaned as he finally slid his cock into her. He stopped halfway, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, realizing her mistake.

"Quiet! You must learn obedience, _mi corazón_. How am I ever going to fuck you in our tent if you're waking up our party and the entire forest with your noise, hmmm?" He placed his hands at the small of her back and then gripped her hips firmly as he slammed his entire length into her in one stroke.

"Unnggh!" Tenniel couldn't think, and she definitely couldn't control her screams of pleasure as he rammed into her over and over again. She bunched the coverlet in her hands and reached out to brace herself by grabbing the other edge of the mattress. The Warden finally stopped trying to control her sounds and completely gave in to the pleasures her body was experiencing. She pushed herself back against him, eagerly meeting his thrusts.

The Fereldan noblewoman loved the feel of him slamming into her and his balls slapping against the now-sensitive skin of her buttocks. He filled her up, and she could feel him pressing up against the center of her core, bottoming out before he pulled back out for another stroke. Her pussy walls gripped his unyielding cock, trying in vain to keep him inside of her every time he slid out of her. Finally, she could take no more. Tenniel screamed his name as every muscle in her body tensed with her first orgasm.

"Zevran!"

"What did you say?" He felt her pussy tighten around him and he grabbed her hair as slammed into her harder. Zevran reached underneath and between her legs, found her clit and stroked his fingers against her nub, pushing her over the edge again.

"Master! Zevran!" she cried weakly. The Warden's arms were buckling and she could no longer keep herself up.

"Hahaha. Shameful! You are absolutely the worst slave ever. Come here, my beautiful one." He let her hair go and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back down to his side of the bed. Zevran kissed her and she stared at him, breathless for a moment. "There, there. I said I would go easy on you, didn't I?" He stood up and caressed the side of her face

"I… Damn, Zevran. What are you doing to me?" Her heart was racing as she stared up into his eyes.

"Exactly what you asked for. Now come here, I am not finished with you yet, my little minx." The assassin sat down on the edge of the bed and instructed her to stand up in front of him. He planted his feet firmly against the floor and once again held her waist. "Sit down, _amada mía_."

She sat her knees on the mattress on either side of his legs and clasped her arms around his neck. He pushed one of her knees up, and then the other one, so her feet were on the mattress next to his thighs.

"No, like this," he said looking up at her with a devious expression as he adjusted her position.

"But I…Zevran, I don't have any balance like this."

"Shhhh, hush. What is this nonsense? I would not let you fall." He looked into her eyes and she kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth as she slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing cock. The Warden closed her eyes and moaned as he pushed into her. _It feels like he is digging into my guts like this. Maker! He's fucking huge._

He kissed her deeply as she ground her hips into him, and he braced one of his hands against the mattress as he leaned further back. The Warden moaned into his mouth and nibbled on his bottom lip, then opened her eyes again as he firmly wrapped his free arm around her waist. "Mmm. Yes."

She looked down at him and saw that he had tilted his head back. His eyes closed as she started rhythmically moving against him. _He is so beautiful, and he's here with me. _She placed her hand behind his neck and kissed him on the lips again before planting soft kisses on the right side of his face along his tattoo, flicking his earlobe and his gold earring and with her tongue. The assassin groaned as she began to suckle the tip of his ear.

"Mmm… Tenniel!"

"Oh, your sexy ears are so delicious!" She whispered in response, increasing her pace as she boldly kissed and sucked on his ear while caressing his face and the lobe of his other ear with her free hand.

He gripped her tighter, bucking against her and moaning against her bosom. He reached up to put one of her firm tits into his mouth and it was her turn to moan against his ear, distracted for a moment. His teeth lightly bit into her nipple.

"Ahhhh! Zevran!" The combined sensations were too much for her to withstand. Tenniel quickened her rhythmic movements against the assassin, increasing the friction until she squeezed her legs around him tightly, put her mouth against his shoulder and screamed his name as he gave her yet another orgasm.

Zevran suddenly pushed her hips against him and stood up while still inside of her before slowly placing her back onto the bed.

The handsome assassin gazed into her bright green, wild-looking eyes as she moved her legs up higher and wrapped them around his back. He thrust into her a few more minutes and bent down to kiss her again before suddenly pulling out of her. Zevran gripped his shaft with both hands, jerking a few times before he ejaculated. He spurted against her thighs, stomach, breasts and face, and then lay down on the bed next to her, finally spent.

"Fuck, Zevran. That was intense." Tenniel licked some of the spunk off of her bosom and smiled at him. "You know what?"

"Hmmm… what?" He sighed contentedly.

"You're ridiculously awesome."

"I know." He chuckled at the sight of her looking at him, so wanton and aroused with their combined sweat and his jizzm coating her body. _And so are you._ "And you're the worst slave ever. I am going to have to stay with you for a long time to make sure you are properly trained."

"Aw, come on! Was I that bad?" She giggled and jumped up from the bed, unexpectedly full of energy again.

"Yes, horrendous. You have absolutely no self-control, woman." Zevran sat up and placed one leg against the bed and the other on the floor. She immediately crouched down to lick and suck a few drops of seed off the tip of his softening cock.

"Hmmph. Well, is that so bad?" She looked up at him, brazenly licking her lips.

The assassin pulled the leather tie off of her hair, ran his fingers through her tresses, and added the image of her looking up at him like a deadly sex goddess to his collection of memories. "Oh, I am definitely not complaining."

The Warden caressed his balls again and he chuckled before quickly removing her hand from his crotch. "And you're insatiable. Absolutely shameful."

"Yeah? Well, how can I resist?" She giggled and stood back up again. "Shower time!"

Tenniel led him into the bathroom and turned on both hot and cold taps, testing the water before stepping under the spray. They took turns lathering each other up and kissed several times under the warm water.

"Tell me something, Tenniel."

"What?"

"I am wondering, does a beautiful Warden such as yourself ask others to punish her very often?"

"I…No. I just… I don't know. I trust you." She wasn't sure how to reply to his question.

"And I am very glad that you do. But you know, you can only have one Master. If there is anyone else out there who…"

"No, you don't have to worry about that. There was only one guy I let slap me around, and he thought I was a whore at the time. And that's a long story, so ask me later, alright?"

"Is this man still alive?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"Good. I will kill him."

"Oh? Just like that, eh?"

"Yes, just like that." He made a stabbing gesture as the warm spray cascaded down their backs.

"Well, get in line, gorgeous. Cause there's a lot of people who want to see Loghain Mac Tir dead, myself included."

"Loghain?" He asked loudly, stunned at her response. That was definitely something he had not expected; that his former client had also been one of her former lovers. _Fate is such a tricky whore. _He started laughing, almost slipped and fell, and then she joined in and they hugged each other for support as they continued to laugh at the situation.

"Ahh, Zevran. I could get used to this." She confessed, completely relaxed and at ease.

"As could I, _mi corazón_. And you say there is a hot springs waiting for us?"

"Yes. There's a hidden doorway behind the middle closet along the back wall in the bedroom. Take a lamp with you and go down the rock steps for a few meters. You'll come to a fork in the path. Take a right and walk for about two or three minutes, take another right and you'll get to the springs. Or you could go left out the door towards the kitchen cellars…feel free to explore. I'm sure Reggie and Jenny are down there by now." She turned the tap to the closed position and they both started drying off.

"And where will you be?" He asked, slowly braiding her hair while she stood there patiently.

"I'm going to spend some time with the children before they go to sleep. I haven't been able to tell them a bedtime story for months. Might as well do it while I can, right?"

"Most definitely. I'll meet up with you later, then."

"Later." Zevran kissed her again after she showed him where a pair of slippers and a thick cotton robe lay waiting in a dresser drawer, ready for his use. She quickly donned a loose-fitting silk dress and put her boots and overcoat on before stepping outside towards the family's living quarters.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15**_

The usually stealthy rogue gave up on creeping quietly along the path after a few seconds. The thick leather of his well-stitched sandals kept slapping noisily against the bottom of his feet as he headed left towards the kitchen cellars. At one point, the path narrowed and the wall to his right disappeared, opening up into a large, wide cavern. Zevran looked over the rickety wooden railing and saw a deep pool of still, dark water where a few brightly-lit creatures swam away from his lamplight.

He continued along the path as it curved uphill again and almost ran into a tall iron door. The walkway continued past it, but he was curious. _She did say 'Feel free to explore', after all. _He pulled on the handle and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. A cool current of air caused his still-damp scalp to chill anew and he closed the door behind him as he moved onward.

Zevran came across another door that was identical to the first one, only the next room was literally freezing cold when he ventured in. There was ice along three of the walls, and various cuts of meat and other foodstuffs were hanging on hooks or placed along rows of shelves. _The_ _amount of supplies in this place could feed a decent-sized army!_

The Antivan shivered as his breath fogged up before him. He quickly sped away from the cold storage room and back down to the path again, careful to close both doors. After walking along for several minutes, he finally arrived at a warmer area where the cave walls looked similar to those near the cottage. He heard voices, so he climbed the stairwell and knocked on the locked iron door.

Regina opened it and looked down at him, her curly red hair looking like a flaming halo around her face. "Oh, hello, Ser Zevran. We were just talking about you, speaking of devils…"

"I have been called many things in my time, dear girl. But demons or devils are something I usually do not associate myself with. Unless I'm killing them at the Warden's behest."

He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the witch-lights. There was a very large, brightly-lit room full of plants. Steam was rising from pipes protruding from the dirt at various intervals. Herbs, fruits, vegetables and some other plants he didn't even recognize were growing in neat rows, hanging in baskets from the ceiling or inside large wooden tubs.

Jeanelle finished pouring water into one such tub, stood up and walked towards them. "Oh, she's just teasing. But we _were_ just discussing you. We were hoping you didn't leave."

He looked at the two women and wondered what they thought about him. Both wore thick cotton robes similar to the one his Warden had given him. "Where in Thedas would I go? You could not pay me enough to leave my… Tenniel's side," he replied.

"Oh! I, ah. Well. She's very fond of you too, Ser Zevran." Jeanelle and Regina looked at each other and giggled.

The freckled woman smiled at Zevran. "Would you like something to drink? We have ale, wine, fresh water, cider…"

"No! He can't have any ale or wine. We're doing the ritual tonight, remember?" Jeanelle reminded her partner.

"Right, right. Well, what'll it be, Ser Zevran? We could brew some mint tea before we go to the hot springs…" She gestured for him to follow her through another door towards the kitchen.

"You can stop calling me Ser. Just Zevran will do. And tea sounds wonderful. What are you two lovely ladies up to?"

"We're just tending to the plants before the end of the day. The tomatoes need constant watering." The Dalish elf took off a pair of gloves and followed them inside the kitchen.

"I must say, you have quite the garden there." The assassin remarked. Someone had cleaned the kitchen and the dishes were washed and stacked neatly in a drying rack.

"Thank you. It is my specialty, and my solace. I am grateful that we are able to spend the winter in such a place."

"Amen to that, my love." Regina replied, setting a kettle on the firestones.

The mage grabbed a stoneware jar and pulled a small linen sack out of it, sprinkling a few tea leaves in three mugs. "And I would have never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would ever be friends with any shemlen, let alone grow to love one of them."

Zevran smiled at Jeanelle and sat down on one of the chairs. "So, how did you meet Tenniel?"

"She didn't tell you? Well, this you have to hear…"

* * *

_It is almost sundown when I catch sight of her flitting amidst the shadows at the edge of the camp. A few cicadas are singing their shrill tunes and biting insects are buzzing around, filling their hungry bodies with fresh blood. Two shemlen have just finished forcing themselves upon my brother and a tall bearded man drags him by one arm. He shoves him back into our cage, locking the door shut after wiping his now flaccid penis against Gérard's white-blonde hair and snickering at some vile joke with his partner. _

_The shemlen resume playing dice and drinking ale as I reach out with my hand to emit a healing spell against my brother's matted hair. He regains consciousness, coughs, then crawls up and retches out through the bars in the far corner of the cage, pulling his smallclothes and breeches up from his ankles afterwards. It is always the same, every evening. But this week, it seems to have gotten worse._

"_Did they hurt you much, sister? Your cries…"_

"_No, not this time. I am healed and well." My anus was still sore, and being on my menses had not deterred five of them from violating me again, so I was of course very irritated. But I would not say such things to him. They always saved the nastiest treatment for him. He had already lost hope._

_I sip clean spring water from a tin cup, thinking all the fresh water in Thedas would never wash the stink of them away. I pass the cup to Gérard._

"_I will clean up in the morning. The river is only a few steps away. If they kill you, I will be free to die." He replies, grimly. He takes a deep gulp of water, banging the cup against the grey iron wrist cuff on his other hand. _

_During the day, they always keep one of us chained to the outside of the cage while we clean, cook and perform various chores for them. They know that neither of us would ever leave the other behind. If only I had learned poison-making from the First before we were captured…_

"_Do not say such things, brother. Sylaise has kept us alive with her gifts of healing." I close my eyes and touch the bark of the tall willow tree through the bars in the back of our cage. The older forest trees here speak of past battles and much bloodshed, but still they comfort me._

"_Enough. It will be three summers in a few months, Jeanelle. We have traveled through towns and villages and so much countryside. We will never be freed from this hell. And even if we are, we are pariah. Filthy, tainted by them. No one would ever bond with us. No man would ever want to touch you, after this."_

"_Not that I ever wanted a man anyway. And I would never want _any_ man to touch me, _especially_ not after this. So it is a moot point, really. Please, just rest." I am almost angry._

"_I wish for the eternal sleep." He replies, weary and frustrated. My bones echo his sentiments._

"_Do not leave me here alone, brother, please don't. Who would wake me up at sunrise, before Bill yells for his wash bucket? Without you, they would surely beat me to death next time."_

_As usual, he is already asleep. I sigh, drink another sip of water and curl up in my corner of the cage, wondering why that shemlen woman is creeping around the camp. But it is not my concern, and I am certainly not going to mention it to any of these foul vermin. _

_She had met up with the men that afternoon, smiling and laughing and talking in some harsh Fereldan accent about looking for a good time in a brothel back at the last outpost. The woman had seemed like a simple-minded, scantily-clad harlot with an extraordinarily large bosom at first, but I caught her scrutinizing the camp, seeming to take note of every detail as she joked with the bandits. _

_One got close and tried to make a grab for her, but she had sped away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest. They had spent almost an hour looking for her, and finally Bill had announced he was going to the outpost to get some "real pussy" for once. Thank the Creators for small blessings; at least I didn't have to worry about him splitting me open that evening. He is one huge, hairy animal of a shemlen. They are all animals._

_Gérard nudges my foot, and I am instantly awake. Is it morning already? I freeze as a woman's angry voice yells in the dark._

"_Where is the key, you fucking piece of shit? Answer me, or I'll make you beg for death!"_

"_I… I… it's in lil' Mike's back pocket! I swear!" It sounds like Jean Claude, the slow-witted mercenary with three missing front teeth is stammering, afraid for his life. The light of the campfire is too far away for me to make out what is going on._

"_Do I look like I know which one of these dead fucks 'Little Mike' is? Get that Maker-damned key, _now_, you son of a bitch!"_

"_Oh, shit, Maker, please! No! Don't stab me, not again!" _

_Someone trips over something wooden, then scrambles in the dirt, panting. Another person kicks them repeatedly, the sound of boot hitting flesh all too familiar. Suddenly we hear a short scream, a choking sound and then silence._

_Am I still dreaming? My brother and I stare, unbelieving, as a fierce-looking, well-armored young shemlen woman covered in blood spatter holds a dagger and torch up to our cage and unlocks it with a quick turn of the key. We rise to our knees and hug each other, hesitant to leave the refuge of our prison. Every other time we've exited the cage, pain is usually quick to follow._

_She beckons with her hand and helps me out, carefully holding my arm and removing my cuff as I step down to the ground. The voice that sounded so harsh is now melodious and soft. "I am Tenniel. What are your names?"_

"_I am Jeanelle, my Lady. This is my twin brother, Gérard."_

"_Andraste's mercy, twins?" She sighs heavily and slides her dagger into its sheath next to the wicked-looking sword at her back. My brother finally steps out of the cage and stares at her, wide-eyed as she begins rummaging around the camp. _

_The torchlight illuminates a most grisly sight, and I gasp, covering my mouth in fear as I stare at the bloody scene before me. Eleven human men lay dead, their throats slit gruesomely. Pools of blood are congealed on bedrolls, and the drunken men who had passed out on a crate after playing dice are now headless. The grass is slick with crimson gore._

"_How long had you been held as prisoner?" she asks._

"_Almost three years, my lady." I respond quickly._

"_Three years? Fuck!" The woman, this Tenniel, seems to have found what she was looking for. She hands two bars of soap, clean towels that I had washed just that morning and a bucket to me. _

"_Here. Go down to the river and wait for me there. I know both of you must be eager to wash up."_

"_Where is the rest of your party, Lady?" My brother finally breaks his silence. She gently removes the cuff from his wrist and hands him the torch, which he accepts with a reverent bow._

"_It is only me," she replies. And I believe her. _

_I follow my brother towards the river and almost trip and fall as my left leg cramps painfully. But she is there with one hand around my shoulder, rubbing my leg and helping me walk, expressing concern for me. My savior apologizes for getting blood on my arm, then leaves me to wonder at the kindness of strangers as I follow Gérard to the river. He sticks his torch into the soft riverbank and immediately starts to undress._

_It takes us an agonizingly long amount of time to bathe, but after so many months of hurried dips, it is good to finally be able to wash myself and my smallclothes properly. I lather my hair and body down, rinse off with a fresh bucket of river water and repeat the process three times while my brother simply washes and swims in the moonlit river. _

_He finally returns to the beach after I have put the filthy, raggedy dress back on. I rip a few strips from the towel and place them inside my smallclothes, suddenly self-conscious about blood running down my legs with a civilized person in our midst._

"_Do you think she really did all of that by herself?" he asks, turning to face me._

"_Why would she lie about it, brother?"_

"_I… I suppose she would have no reason to lie, after all. But she should be back by now. Do you think we should wait for her?"_

_I feel a twinge of fear, not wanting to think beyond the next few minutes. Are we really free? What will we do? "Where will we go?" I ask him, quietly._

"_I do not know, sister. I do not even know where we are now." _

_We wait in silence as the warm spring winds dry my hair. Several minutes pass, and still she does not return. Gérard grabs the torch from the ground and walks back up the trail towards camp, impatient as always. I follow, as always._

_We are shocked to silence again as we watch her methodically performing a most appalling task. She is laughing as she places a head on the ground, its garish stare of horrified surprise seeming to mock us. Is she making a pattern? _

_The torchlight flickers, and I see headless, heartless, armless, castrated corpses are all piled neatly on one side of the camp, their torn clothes and personal effects strewn amongst the crates on the other side of camp near our former cage. Gérard gasps as she sets another head above an arm near an unrecognizable pile of flesh. The wind shifts, and the smell makes me gag for a moment._

_She has spelled the name "Bill Borcher" upon the ground in the grassy clearing. Clearly this message of body parts is meant for a purpose, but why on Thedas would any sane person do such a thing?_

_Tenniel laughs again, walks towards the crates and sundry other items and pulls the towel I had used to dry off from atop one of them. The reflection of the campfire shines against a razor-sharp meat cleaver before she sets it on the crate. _

_I cringe, remembering the feel of it swiping across my knuckles when Bill first captured us. Only a monster would carry a butcher's knife around, wielding it like a common weapon. He had seen my skin re-knit itself after he sliced my fingers, and smiled evilly at me. My fate was sealed as he held that cleaver to my brother's neck, forcing me to heal the very men who had killed our tribesmen…_

_The woman wipes her face and hands on the towel and attempts to clean some of the blood splatter from her expensive-looking leather armor. She sees us and frowns for a moment, then shakes her head as if waking up from a daze. _

"_Sorry you had to witness that. But they had to pay for what they did. Here, I found some relatively clean clothes, if you want to put these on instead. I thought I told you to wait by the river."_

_Gérard and I are still silent as we dress, not sure how to reply to this woman. The shirts and breeches are too large for my brother and me. I have to tie a rope around my waist to keep my leggings on, but at least they are clean. _

_She helps me roll cuffs on the shirt-sleeves, stares at us and then asks, "Can you speak Common?"_

"_Yes, my Lady." I reply._

"_Good. Now, where are you from?"_

"_We are from Orlais, my Lady."_

_She is silent for a moment. "You should find a pair of boots that fit, Gérard," she says, before turning back to address me again. "It's quite clear that you're Orlesian, sweetie. But where in Orlais are you from?"_

"_I… we are Dalish. We wander about."_

"_Oh, I see. I should have known, from your tattoo." She sighs and then gestures with her hand for us to step away from the crates after my brother puts on a pair of boots. Tenniel sets her torch against the crates, dirty clothes and some bins by the campfire, and the items are immediately set ablaze. She must have spread lamp oil beforehand. _

_We venture away from the roaring flames, the ground making squelching sounds as my toes sink into the muddy grass. It hasn't rained recently, so I dare not look down. She hands both of us a pack of goods as she puts a larger pack onto her back._

"_Here, I've salvaged some supplies that should last until you get to the nearest town. You are free now. You may go wherever you wish to go."_

"_My lady, we have nowhere to go." Gérard protests. He eyes the stack of nude corpses in the distance and shudders._

"_Nowhere? Surely, you could travel to West Hill and find work..."_

"_But the Templars will…"_

"_Templars? Dear Maker, are you mages, too?"_

"_My sister has some healing skills, my lady. I am, was… just a craftsman's apprentice."_

"_Stop calling me 'lady'." She sighs and looks at us closely before shaking her head. "So much for going to the chantry then, hmmm? Fine then. You can follow me. I'm going to West Hill to collect my bounty and then I'll be travelling back home to Highever."_

"_A bounty?" I ask, my voice shrill with incredulity._

"_Yes, the Bann is paying a great deal to have someone get rid of that group of bandits and return some stolen goods."_

"_Is that why you…?" I cannot bring myself to finish the sentence, to say that she had slaughtered and dismembered the men like a possessed thing._

"_No, I did _that_ because those animals killed a lot of poor freeholders and made you scream for three years. Come on, let's go before any farmers see the smoke and arrive to investigate. I want them to think that Bill butchered his own men in a fit of psychotic rage after I bested them. I've already found the stolen jewelry as proof to collect my bounty." Lady Tenniel whistles sharply and a brown mare comes trotting over from amongst the trees alongside a war hound. _

_The woman takes one look at my bare feet and insists I get on the horse. She shocks me again by wiping my feet off and helping me into the saddle, and I again feel afraid for a moment. I am up so high! Did she really say she killed the men because they had made us scream for three years? It all seems a tad excessive. What sort of shemlen was this?_

"_Don't worry, I'll lead. Just relax, girl. I won't let any harm come to you." _

_I believe her._

* * *

"She really killed all those men by herself?" Zevran tapped his fingers against the pine table and looked at the tattooed Dalish woman when she finished reciting her tale.

"Do you doubt that she could?" Jeanelle asked. She had left out a few minor personal details while retelling her story to Tenniel's companion, but she had certainly not exaggerated.

"No, I do not. I've seen her fight. She would make a very fine Crow." A woman who was a vicious, deadly merciless killer would be welcomed to their ranks with open arms. The assassin wondered what Tenniel would say if he suggested they do some jobs together. _Surely, there is plenty of work to do in Denerim._

Regina interrupted his thoughts. "And now she is one of the fabled Grey Wardens. They couldn't have picked a better person to save us from the Blight. If anyone could do it, she can."

"She does seem to be very good at saving lost causes. Too bad your brother Gérard didn't give her a chance." As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had spoken out of turn. But he wanted to see the mage's reaction.

Jeanelle looked up sharply from her mug of tea and glared at him. "What do you know of my brother? I thought you said she had not told you anything about us!"

"I said nothing of the sort. I simply told you that she hadn't explained the story of how you met. Which happens to be true, although she _did_ tell me she had saved you from some bandits. I wanted to know the details."

"Well, you have no right to judge my brother."

Zevran crossed his arms and stared back at her. "I am the last person to judge anyone. This has obviously upset you. We do not need to speak of it any further."

"No, it's good to get things out in the open, Zevran. My brother… he was deeply troubled. He really had lost all hope, and was a mere shell of himself by the time we were rescued. Even though he had often spoken of death, I fooled myself into thinking that he would get past it somehow. I held onto my illusions until the very end, when he lay dying in my arms and so poisoned that he was beyond even my help." The woman grew tearful.

"Yes, but what of Tenniel?" _Andraste spare me from the tears of a woman._

Regina answered for her partner, rubbing Jeanelle's arms and kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Tenniel says that when she told him she loved him, he said 'I don't believe you, but thanks.' She won't say anything else about him. And besides, it's not our story to tell. Why do you ask?"

"Yes, why do I ask?" Zevran sighed and began to feel apprehensive. His Warden seemed to have such terrible luck in the romance department. No wonder she had acted so strangely at first. "Please accept my apology for making you feel… uncomfortable, Jeanelle."

"It's alright, Zevran. You are right to be concerned for her. We all have been worried about Lady Tenniel Cousland. She is very young and dives into her work with a passion, but she has avoided forming any real… romantic… relationships with anyone. Other than us; her friends and family, she doesn't let anyone get close enough to really know her. And after she had the children, do you know she would visit the brothels instead of trying to court anyone…?" The petite mage rubbed her eyes, laughed and shook her head, clearly amazed at her friend's shameless behavior.

"Wonderful! She's just my type. I was raised in a whore house, you know." He chuckled gleefully and they all laughed with him as they got up from the table to walk to the hot springs.

"Please do not break her heart, Zevran. It would be a tragedy for our Tenniel to give up on love." Jeanelle pleaded with him in her lilting accent.

He nodded, took one last sip of his tea, grabbed his oil lamp and followed the women out the door and down the steps back into the caves. _Yes, Zevran, but you gave up on love a long time ago. Didn't you?_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

Zevran chuckled to himself, thinking that they looked like a group of be-robed chantry devotees as they moved leisurely along the trail towards the springs. They passed the stone steps where he had initially descended from the cottage and walked single-filed through a narrow passageway.

After the tunnel opened up again, they came to a fork in the road and heard a tapping sound. Ser Walter appeared from around the corner with a walking stick, holding a lamp up towards them. He was wearing a pair of dark grey woolen breaches and a large key was sticking out of his pocket. Zevran noted that the man's entire upper body was covered in strange, pagan-looking tattoos, to the point where it appeared as if he was wearing a shirt made out of paint. _Well, at least we have something in common._

"Ah, just the one I was looking for. What's with that get-up?" the Avvarian asked, as he glanced at Zevran from head to toe.

"What get-up?" he replied.

Jeanelle and Regina snickered and started giggling uncontrollably as the Antivan put one free hand on his hip in a defiant gesture.

"Can someone please tell me what it is you Fereldans find so amusing?" Zevran asked with a smirk.

"You're wearing Tenniel's robe, lad. It's a bit… unusual."

"Quite the contrary, I find it is very comfortable. Although I am also quite comfortable walking around in nothing at all. Hmmm… now that you mention it, it is quite warm here and we _are_ going to the springs, right?"

"Ahh.. errr… no, it looks rather nice on you. No need to disrobe, so to speak." Walter shrugged and shook his head at the two women as they continued to giggle.

"Hmmph… women! Follow me, Zevran. The springs are getting a wee bit crowded. Hospitality aside, I'll be glad when the visitors are gone. You lasses can go relax, we'll be back down in a few minutes. Oh, and Tenniel will be looking for you to watch the children after she puts them to bed, Reggie."

"All right, Da. I'll see to them after I get a quick soak in."

"Aye, do that, love. T'will be a busy night for us." The man set his cane against his leg, adjusted his lamp's handle along his wrist and patted her on the head with his free hand. "And don't forget, it's your turn to get up at the crack o' dawn and tend to the chickens and goats this time. I'm going a-hunting tomorrow."

The gangly red-head grumbled and then grinned up at him as she replied, "All right, Da."

* * *

The assassin followed the burly, shirtless man as he seemed to glide over the rocky terrain, the tip-tap of his peg leg and walking stick the only indicators that he was indeed making contact with the ground. Zevran put his hand against the walls at a few points where the path narrowed sharply and hugged a cliff-face. He peeked over the side and experienced a moment of vertigo, as he could see no end to the chasm below them. After a few minutes, they came upon a red steel door, and Walter unlatched it before beckoning him to enter before him.

Walter propped the door open with a large rock and the Antivan's eyes adjusted to the much brighter light. "Is this… a lab?" The air in the place was stagnant and he noticed a faint whiff of sulfur.

"Aye, that it is. Alchemy, apothecary, et cetera. Potions and poisons a-plenty, and everything else a crafter needs to make bombs, traps, salves, balms, elixirs, coatings and what-not. Been at it for decades, lad. You'll find lots of things up in these mountains and caves that you won't find anywhere else on Thedas." The man lit a series of torches that were set into the walls at various intervals and continued into the larger part of the room.

"For _decades_? How old are you?" he asked, thinking Morrigan would be jumping for joy to find such a place. He made a note to visit later and see if there were any exotic poisons he could test out the next time he and his Warden encountered any resistance on the road.

"Hahaha, smart one, you are. I'll get to that in a moment. Come on, let's go find the high dragon's lifeblood. If you're still up to it, that is…"

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Did Tenniel tell you about the strength the dragon blood gives you, along with the rather unpleasant side effects?"

Zevran followed the older man past rows of shelves, tables and various equipment. "Yes, she mentioned the violent tendencies."

"Hmmph. It's more than just tendencies, lad. You'll be itching to spill some blood, always looking for the next fight. Probably a good thing that you're an assassin, eh?"

"I suppose so."

"Damn right. But you've got to control your baser instincts. I'm not going to mince my words, and I make no apologies for what I did to Tenniel, or for what I'm about to do to you. It's bloody dangerous. But it's a sacred tradition, a secret one that's been done on Thedas for a few millennia. No one really knows how long mountain men and women such as myself have been quietly fighting the good fight and keeping the population culled. We've been here since before the Chantry, and we'll be here long after the last remnants of Tevinters have crumbled to ash and no one can remember what a Blight is."

"Culling the population? What population?" Zevran was beginning to think that perhaps this man's sanity was dubious, at best.

"Dragons, lad. Dragons. And it's a good thing you and Tenniel arrived when you did. We need to go on a hunt again, sooner rather than later. One of the high dragons has awakened and there are far too many drakes and dragonlings on the loose now. We've got to find the source and exterminate the foul creatures before it gets out of hand."

"Is that why there are ballista in the yard?" _Tenniel had not been joking after all. Dear Maker, what have I gotten myself into now?_

Walter laughed, a deep hearty chuckle that echoed through the cavern walls. "Aye. Ten-Ten said you were a smart one. My Maggie said our Cousland lass would find a mate by the end of this year. No liar, she." He bent down to brush some dirt away from the ground, tugged at a thick rope hidden amongst some stones and opened a hatch in the floor.

The Avvarian laughed at Zevran's expression and gestured for him to enter the lower level. "Yes, that is why there are ballista in the yard. Sure as hell aren't going to be any other Avvarians, or idiot Orlesian or Fereldan peasants and noblemen venturing up to these parts for no apparent reason. Even the darkspawn stay away from this region, lad. Even their archdemons respect the territory of the other dragons."

"So, archdemons are dragons as well?" Zevran carefully stepped down the narrow wooden ladder and held his lamp up as the older man slowly followed him down through the hatch.

"I reckon so. Just like there are mages amongst humans and elves, I believe the cursed archdemons are the dragons' mages. Perhaps a few smart drakes made some dark bargain with Tevinter mages long ago so they could grow wings and no longer be subjugated to their queens, the high dragons. Or perhaps it's just an aberration and all archdemons are corrupted dragons. They're certainly no gods, as powerful as they may be. Enough Grey Wardens have dispatched them over the centuries to prove that much."

They were in a small cave with several metal chests, some of which were bashed in and rusted. Walter opened one of them and pulled out a large, round glass jar of red viscous fluid sealed with a thick coating of bright green wax. He carefully set the jar down and proceeded to grab another instead, looking for a specific set of symbols stamped into the wax on the side of the glass. The older man finally found the container he was looking for and handed the jar to the assassin before closing the lid of the chest.

"Dragons never belonged in our world, Zevran. They slipped through a gate, some portal between worlds long ago. They've been a plague upon Thedas ever since, consorting with demons, manipulating humans and causing bloodshed and terror amongst the races. And dragons are far more intelligent and wily than most give them credit for."

"When you say they manipulate humans, are you talking about the Reavers?"

"Well, there is that. I used to be part of their clan, so I've left them alone. But they have been twisted by demonic blood magic. The Reavers back in Haven have formed a special bond with their dragons and they often go into a blood frenzy, killing innocent people on a whim."

"Yes, Tenniel did say something about them being insane."

"That's a nice way of putting it. But the dragons have corrupted far more than a few simple-minded cultists. How do you think the ancient Tevinters came to power and were able to destroy Arlathan? Not that it matters much now. Now, we just have to keep killing them. And we who fight with the power of their blood pay a heavy price for it. Few know about us, and even fewer can carry this burden."

"So, do you have some sort of organization? Are there certain… guidelines that must be followed, and so forth?" Zevran asked. _I do not have the stomach to tolerate living under yet another set of rigid rules. _

"Hmmph. Nothing of the sort. No rules, 'cept for getting rid of dragons when they start showing up in greater numbers. When normal battles become a bore, you'll feel the itch to go hunting for the beasts. Most of us don't like to associate with each other much… well, let's just say the dragon-hunter clans are almost as territorial as the dragons themselves."

Walter continued explaining the situation to him. "The only rule we have is that you're not to bring undue attention to yourself. People are terribly corrupt. If they think something will give them power, there's always a few bastards who will do anything to have it, with no thought as to the consequences. So regular folk - the population at large, is not to know about us. Understood?"

He watched as the robed assassin nodded his head in complete agreement. "Now tell me, what are your feelings about Tenniel?"

"I… I have only known her for a little over two weeks." The Antivan rogue was taken aback and not sure how relevant his feelings towards Tenniel were when it came to fighting dragons.

"That's beside the point. You and I both know that spending every waking moment with someone for two weeks and killing things side-by-side together is enough to develop a pretty fucking strong opinion about them. Now answer the question, lad. There's no one else here 'sides you and me. 'Tis important," he urged him firmly but quietly.

Zevran took a deep breath and realized there was no point in trying to be evasive with this man. "She is… Tenniel is the fire in my blood. She is my heart. There is still so much I want to know about her, so much for me to learn. But I have pledged an oath, and I will stay by her side. I will protect her at all costs." _There. You have admitted it and you are still alive, Zevran. Wonders never cease._

"Fair enough, lad. May the Lady of the Skies protect us all. Now let's go get this blood ready." They headed back up through the hatch and out to the main portion of the lab, walking in silence until Walter gestured for the blonde-haired rogue to place the phylactery on a table near several large flasks of lyrium.

"Reggie-lass thinks I've gone soft in the head when I say I talk with her mum in the Fade. She doesn't understand how the bonding works. No one does, until they experience it for themselves. Even I told myself it was just a trick of my mind the first year. But my Maggie, she never doubted it."

"Maggie?"

"Aye, that'd be my mate, my ex-wife and wife-to-be. Roland and Regina's mum. Maggella An Swannac O Peakhold. She's an Avvar, a highlander, like me."

"Is she… dead?"

"No! No, decidedly not. She's still alive and up to mischief, been helping out a friend in Anderfels this past year. She always was one to thumb her nose at the Chantry and their views on apostate mages. You may think it strange, but we have been married four times. I can't seem to get all the knots out of that rope, though. Next time I'm definitely going to cheat. That's all there is to it." He mumbled the last sentence as he pulled a vial of bright blue liquid off a small shelf.

"Excuse me, rope?" Zevran was again perplexed. The swarthy highlander seemed to change subjects like the shifting sands changed the landscape of the Antivan Drylands.

"Hahaha, I forget, you know none of my barbarian customs, lad. We Avvars are a wandering lot. Almost as nomadic as the Dalish. Even our marriages aren't permanent. My Maggie sang a long tune to Korth the Mountain-Father at our last wedding about twenty-six years ago, but I only managed to undo seventeen of the blasted knots. Soon as our children were of age and doing well for themselves, off she went a-dragon hunting."

The man sighed deeply before continuing. "She wouldn't let me follow her this time, since I lost my leg fourteen years ago. Not that I ever liked traveling around on unknown mountain paths. But we're bonded. I feel what she feels, I know she's fine. After I find out what really happened to Roland, I'll go to the Hunterhorns and find her again, or my name isn't Walter Ar Cathal O Peakhold."

"So, I take it your Maggie has also undergone the… dragon blood ritual?"

"Yes, it was… let me see… about an hundred and thirty three? No, one hundred and thirty-seven years ago. The Orlesians were still occupying the lowlands then. They killed our first child." The man was silent for a moment, contemplating the events of decades past and the violence dealt to them before continuing.

"That's when I ran off to the mountains for a while. Male dragon-hunters… we're fighters, but we're supposed to protect our mates and the young, first and foremost. And I… I had failed. I was away, when I should have been more diligent. No matter what she says, I still blame myself. I couldn't face her for a long while. But she found me in the mountains, and the rest is history, as they say."

"Wait… one hundred and thirty-seven years? How is that even possible?" He looked up at the man with a bewildered expression.

Walter painstakingly cut some of the wax off the top of the jar with a thin metal instrument, pulled off the lid and poured a small quantity of deep crimson blood into a flask. "Nothing is permanent, but dragons live a very long time. And their only real predators are us. True high dragons are only females. Drakes bond themselves to a dragon and protect her and their young at all cost. And through the ritual, we become more like them so we can fight them most effectively. So, perhaps _now_ you know what the _true_ curse is, eh?" He pulled a green cube of wax from off one of the shelves and set it in an elevated metal dish above his lamp.

Zevran was silent for a long while as he watched the man pour a few measured drops of a potent lyrium potion into the flask. The Avvar swirled the now bright reddish-purple liquid around for a few seconds and eyed the Antivan expectantly. The green wax in the dish was melting quickly.

"I… I don't know what to say about that. But Tenniel is a Grey Warden, and according to what Alistair said, their life expectancy is quite short." Zevran frowned before looking back up at Walter.

"Don't you worry none about that, lad. I think we can find a way to burn that a-cursed, tainted blood out of her system once her quest is done. And I've heard tales of at least one Warden who managed to escape the clutches of the taint for good. She was an elven mage, though. And I think it happened after she gave birth. Matter of fact…." The brawny man's words trailed off as he began pouring the contents of the flask into a small vial, which he stopped up with a cork.

He scratched his beard and sighed deeply. "No sense in worrying about it overmuch, Zevran. If you think you care for each other now, just you wait a few years. A strong bond only grows stronger with time. Just remember, after this ritual is completed, you will be a part of our clan. You will fight by her side, and protect her _and_ her children - your children, to the best of your ability. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Zevran glanced up at the man and crossed his arms. "Yes, of course. I lived amongst the Dalish for several years. If a hunter dies and his bonded has children, the entire clan raises them. If she chooses to take another mate, he automatically becomes their father, if they are not yet of age. Children are always cared for. But I… I was from Antiva City. I never knew my father, and my mother died giving birth to me. Far too many orphans roam the city streets, are bought and sold and abused. I was lucky, to have been bought by the Crows."

"Hmmph! And they call _us_ barbarians!"

The Antivan chuckled at the man's remark and uncrossed his arms. "You may be right about that. As soon as Tenniel told me she had children and I made the decision to stay with her, I… well… children should not have to survive without the guidance and protection of their parents. And Tenniel leads a dangerous life. I _will_ protect our children, of that you can be sure of."

"Good to know. For now, I will do so as well. You two have a blight to stop, after all. And it's not as if my Regina is going to have pups of her own any time soon," Walter added.

The two men chuckled before the Avvar continued. "Before you start to wonder about it, know that the children do not automatically become dragon-hunters. Some of the dragon blood passes to the babes at birth, and it's true they are stronger than normal and live a little longer than most humans. But they'd have to go through the ritual, same as us, to become true dragon-hunters. So far, none of my children have wanted to take on the curse. It is their choice. And this is a hard life."

"Very true. But Walter, I am worried about Tenniel. Just two days ago, she seemed to go on a rampage during a fight with some darkspawn. It was almost as if something else took over her mind for a moment. She was fighting as if she had nothing to lose. It was… difficult, to coax her back and get her to talk to me."

"Was this before she met up with Jeanelle?"

"Yes. Yes, it was…"

"Well, there's your answer, lad. Perhaps she thought she really didn't have anything left to lose after all. How could she have known her children survived the massacre at the castle?"

"I… hmmm… you're probably right. I never thought of that until now."

"She has plenty of heart, and she sees more than most of us do. Tenniel trusts you, or else you wouldn't be here now. But it's going to be difficult, staying by her side. The dragon blood running in her veins, plus the darkspawn taint… there's nothing natural about it. She may be overcome by rage at times. But you've got to help her stay grounded. Remind her that she's still a person."

The assassin nodded. _I will remind her that she is a living, breathing, human woman with plenty to live for._

"Now do me a favor, will you? Re-seal that jar and put it back in the cache in a few minutes, please. I'll meet up with you in the cottage after you get back from the springs. Nature calls."

"On it."

The man placed the vial into his pants pocket and travelled towards the main entrance. "And snuff the torches on your way out. The key's on the table – you can give it back to me later."

Zevran was left alone with his thoughts for a while as he completed the highlander's requests. _What did he mean by 'bonding'? Is it even possible for me to bond with a human, or is it something different than what the Elvhen do when pairing up? _He hoped the man wouldn't inform Tenniel about his feelings towards her; he didn't want to jinx anything before his business with the Crows was completed. _And besides, there is no way for me to know if she feels the same way._


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

"Do you think it'll work?" A woman's voice echoed against the cavern walls.

"Sure, why not? The Orlesians would much rather continue to deal with the Couslands. Better to stick with a sure thing when it comes to trade, no?" Marcel answered her.

"Aye, and let's face it – nobody likes Rendon Howe. Not even his own children. The man is repulsive. Can you believe he actually tried to pair up his snot-nosed brat, Thomas, with Lady Tenniel at the Landsmeet last year?" Zevran recognized ser Timothy's voice.

The assassin had passed Regina as he arrived at the hot springs portion of the cave network and noticed that it was illuminated with plenty of torches and witch-lights. He snuffed out his lamp, sat it down against the rock wall next to his neatly folded robe and removed his slippers before quietly descending the stone stairwell towards the pools of water.

The floor of the cave was gently sloped and mostly covered in crystal-clear water, but there were deep depressions dotted here and there before the water streamed out of the cavern. A few pools along the far side of the cave wall near the feeder stream and water fall were practically bubbling. Pipes protruded from the steam-covered wall alongside the entire length of the cave and back up the roof of the tunnel he had just exited from. _This is quite a remarkable feat of engineering, using the natural landscape. Amazing what one can do with a lot of time on their hands._

"Now _that_ would have been hilarious to see. Didn't Nate run away to the Free Marches for the same reason? Their father sure doesn't know when to quit." A man with a much deeper voice replied, interrupting Zevran's thoughts. He was Ser Jotan, the one who had been wearing the dragonbone plate armor.

The four humans were all wearing their smallclothes and sitting chest-deep in one pool of steaming water. Zevran decided to stay hidden in the shadows and eavesdrop on the humans while waiting for Tenniel to arrive at the springs.

"Only a fool would try to pair our Ten-Ten up with anybody." The woman commented. "I remember when I met her almost three years ago, when I was still working for the Denerim guard. At first, I thought she was just some slip of a nobleman's daughter who had seen a bit too much for her age. But she was vicious and skilled…

* * *

_Ser Rosalynn Winter swore under her breath as the bolt hit the man in the back of the thigh, felling him before he recovered. The convict scrambled across a row of snow-covered nettle, and turned into another alleyway. _

"_Looks like I owe you ten percent of my cut after all. I should've known not to bet against you. By the Maker, you're sodding scary when it comes to that crossbow," she praised Tenniel's archery skill._

_She slung her own longbow across her back and glanced down at the blonde noblewoman at her side, shaking her head. "Do you think he'll try and fight us much?" The light-armored knight wasn't looking forward to a knock-down drag-out scuffle. It was freezing cold, and the muddy slush was clinging to their boots._

"_Nah, he has that gutless coward look down to a science. He'll probably just run. Or should I say _try_ to run." Tenniel stood up from where she'd been kneeling on the cobbled street and whistled sharply after swiping some of the frozen mud off her kneepads. _

_A very sturdy-looking black and tan mabari came loping around the corner of a dark alley towards her. "Ugh! You've been wallowing around in rubbish again, haven't you? Andraste's ass, Terri! You're sleeping in the stables tonight." _

_Tenniel held a ragged strip of cloth under the dog's nose and he sniffed it for a few moments. "Go get him, boy!"_

_The dog immediately ran towards their quarry and the two women jogged after him and his giant paw prints. It wasn't long before they caught up to the escaped convict, just outside the city gates. Thankfully, there were no other travelers around and it had started to snow again, making the area seem eerily quiet._

_Tenniel laughed derisively at the man struggling to escape from her mabari. "So, is it true you got caught trying to assassinate the Arl of Denerim?" She kicked the man's shin as her dog kept his massive jaws clamped firmly around his shoulder._

"_Ach! Please, yer ladyship, call off yer beast! I'm begging you!" The convict squirmed around but still failed to get free._

_Tenniel kicked the man again. "Shut up and quit your whining. I know he's not hurting you much. Answer the question."_

"_I… ah… you wouldn't believe me if I told you! No one would…"_

"_Shut up and get to the point, or I'll kill you just for boring me!"_

"_His son! It was the Arl's son. He paid me thirty sovereigns to do the job. 'Cept I got caught by one of the servants when I tried to poison him. And I'm not going back to Fort Drakon! You'll have to kill me first!"_

"_Well, by all means…" Tenniel drove her sword into the man's breastbone and twisted her blade once, smirking as the man gave a surprised 'oomph' sound and slumped to the ground. She yanked her blade free and watched with satisfaction as she flicked the blood against the pristine snow. _

_Ser Winter stared at her partner, wide-eyed with surprise. "Damn, Tenniel. That was… brutal."_

"_What? They said 'dead or alive'. I didn't feel like hearing his whining all the way back into town." She glanced at the warm crimson drops melting into the snow and smiled. "We'll be able to go the tavern and have some peace tonight."_

"_Yeah, but do you think he was right? About the Arl's son, I mean." Rosalynn rubbed her leather gloves together and stuck her hands under her armpits, trying to keep warm._

"_Probably. Not my problem. Nobles are always trying to kill each other, one way or another." She sighed and started cutting the dead convict's threadbare linen tunic up, tying his legs and hands together with the strips of cloth so she could easily drag the corpse along behind them as they returned to the city gates. The fool wouldn't have been able to get far anyway, not in this cold._

"_Ha! Couldn't agree with you more. Well, at least we finished the job before it got too dark. And you'll be able to buy that set of new drakeskin you were looking at in Wade's shop the other day, too!" Ser Winter was suddenly in a good mood again._

"_Aye, that'll be a nice set. He said he'd custom-fit it for me. And don't worry about your cut, Roz. I was only joking." She gave Rosalynn one of her rare smiles._

_The knight noticed her dimples and smiled in return. She wasn't even worried about her cut, especially since she hadn't done much besides keep Tenniel company. But it was nice to know she'd get thirty per cent of the bounty. Ser Winter had found out about the escaped prisoner from one of Fort Drakon's guards who was on duty at the Landsmeet that evening and was glad she had shared the news. _

"_Brilliant! I still need to buy that master fire rune from The Wonders before they sell out. It's definitely that time of year…"_

* * *

Marcel nodded after Ser Rosalynn was finished telling her story. "Right you are, Rosalynn. Our Tenniel is a damned good fighter, and one hell of a catch,"

"Too bad she's finally decided to settle down. And with an _elf_, no less. I was hoping to have a go at her." Ser Timothy sighed deeply and slumped his shoulders.

"Speaking of fools… quiet, you! Tenniel also said that _he_ was a damned good fighter. That's quite a compliment, coming from her. You wouldn't want to cross blades with him again, would you?" Marcel splashed some water towards the curly-haired knight.

Ser Rosalynn stretched, yawned and then looked at ser Timothy. "Yeah, and why're you so worried about who she's bedding, Timmy? It's been a while since you've seen any action, hasn't it?" She teased him with a smirk.

"Hey, I'll have you know, I get plenty of action!" He stood up in the water and glowered at her.

"Your dog doesn't count." All four humans laughed at ser Jotan's remark.

Jeanelle was sitting up on a dry, rocky area of the cave next to a small rack with several pots of ink on it. She appeared to be drawing or writing something in a book, and she paused to chuckle at the Fereldan's humor.

Ser Timothy crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the trio.

"Oh, come on, we're only teasing! Does Timmy need a little tender loving care?" Ser Rosalyn stood up, moved closer to the man and kissed his cheek. He tried to pretend he was still upset, but then he grinned at her.

"I could never say no to you, Roz."

"You'd better not. Mmmm... This place has got me feeling relaxed and refreshed. But now I'm starting to get all wrinkly. Time to head up to bed, I think."

"Yeah, we have been in here a while. Gotta get up early and head down to the lake, after all." Marcel and the knights all moved out of the water, grabbed their towels and headed out an opening in the cave towards the yard outside.

* * *

Zevran snuck all the way down the stairs into another pool of deeper water the moment they left, startling Jeanelle as he splashed around noisily.

"Oh, Zevran! I didn't even see you come in! Mercy, you and Tenniel both sneaking about…" The Dalish woman scowled at him.

"What was that you said about me sneaking around, Jenny-bird? And by the way, the pups told me to give you a kiss goodnight for them, so here, catch!" Tenniel's giggles echoed into the cave, and Zevran chuckled to himself, thinking how fun it would be for them to sneak up on people together.

He watched his Warden blow Jeanelle a kiss and stroll down the rocky stairs into the water, smiling across the cavern at him where he lay relaxing in a warm pool.

"And aren't you a sight for sore eyes, yon gorgeous elven rogue!" She exclaimed as she slipped off her silk gown and tossed it up on the dry section next to Jeanelle.

"Oh, so am I to be eye candy and an inspiration for your terrible Fereldan poetry now?" He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back in a sexy pose.

"Oh, ho, ho! Look who's feeling saucy now. You must educate me on the finer points of Antivan poetry, Arl Studly. I am but a pitiable, ignorant _barbarian_ who would surely swoon upon hearing such lovely phrases pouring from your delightful lips like sweet honey." The Warden held the back of her hand against her forehead in a mock feinting gesture as she advanced towards him.

She twisted her waist-length braid into a knot at the crown of her head and he stood up as she slowly entered the hot water next to his side. The assassin turned towards her and quickly closed the space in between them with a welcome embrace. She sunk down into the water and leaned against him as he kissed her neck and shoulder and then captured her mouth for a long kiss.

"Mmmm… lips like sweet honey. Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?" He teased before kissing her neck again. She looked into his eyes and smiled.

"Yes, I'm quite sure." Tenniel caressed his face tattoo and kissed him before resting her head against his shoulder. She closed her eyes and leaned on him as pressed his back against the smooth stones of the volcanic depression. "And you're naked?" Her eyes snapped open.

"No ser, I'm wearing my birthing day armor."

"You're terrible!"

"Hahahaha, and you Fereldans need to loosen up. Don't worry, I haven't scared anyone away."

"I'm surprised Rosalynn and Marcel didn't invite you over for a private party."

"Damn it! I knew I should have said 'hello' when they were still here."

"Look who's being shameful now!" She laughed, and then gyrated her hips against him.

"Oh, no you don't. Settle down, you little minx. Ser Studly does not wish to showcase his amateur skills and get the water all... cloudy."

"Oh, you!" She playfully smacked his shoulder and giggled unabashedly.

"I spoke to Walter," he informed her.

"Oh? And have you changed your mind, yet?"

"Not a chance, woman. You are stuck with me."

"Stuck with you, eh? Hmmm… I could think of worse punishments."

"You say this now. We'll see what you say after spending a few decades with Zevran." He chuckled as he gently massaged her shoulders. She sank down into the water until it came up to her neck and he copied her movements.

"A few decades? So you really _have_ decided to stick around." She gazed questioningly into his eyes.

"But of course. Surely you do not think I would ever leave my Bonded's side…" He kissed her, wondering why she seemed uncertain.

"Bonded? What's that about?" She asked.

"You do not know? _Brasca_! I surely thought Walter would have told you."

"Told me… _what_, Zevran?"

"I… it is nothing. He mentioned something to the affect that we may form a bond of sorts." He felt awkward, trying to explain it to her.

"Well, that is not such a bad thing, is it?" She gave him one of her shy smiles, and he felt his heart melting all over again.

"No, it is not so bad at all. I definitely do not mind feeling closer to you." He admitted without any reluctance.

"I think I would like that too. Very much." She hugged him and then wrapped her legs around his muscular thighs. He kissed her, teasing her lips open with his tongue as he gently massaged her derrière under the water.

Zevran decided he wouldn't tell her about the other side effects of the dragon's blood to a couple who already had strong feelings towards each other. _If she doesn't know, it's not going to matter much. Besides, it might not happen after all. No need to worry about mi corazón wandering off to go a-hunting without me someday. We still have so much to do right now._


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

"It's about time you showed up! You forgot to let the poor dog in again. Terri was barking something fierce," Walter scolded them as soon they returned to their cottage.

Tenniel frowned and experienced a pang of guilt. "Oh! Sorry, Terri. I thought you'd be in the stables. Is it too crowded for you in there, boy?"

The mabari barked affirmatively and rested his head against his front paws, content to sit in the corner of the sitting room near the fire.

"Don't worry, all those puny mutts will be leaving tomorrow morning, and you'll have free reign of the place again, I promise." She patted his round head and rubbed the fur on his back, and he gave a happy little appreciative bark.

Zevran retrieved a pair of breeches from his closet and slipped them on before joining the rest of the group in the sitting room.

"Are we all ready now?" Walter eyed the younger occupants of the room and tapped the armrest of one of the couches. "Alright then, Zevran, help me move this couch here."

The Antivan watched as he removed the cushions, pulled up on the back of the couch and separated it from the base portion. Zevran repeated the man's movements and they unfolded a hidden set of supports from the back side of the couch and placed it next to the base. Tenniel then retrieved a small mattress from the storage closet next to the kitchen and sat it on the makeshift bed frame.

"Ready to go under the knife, dear one?" she asked as he sat down on the bed.

Jeanelle entered the room with a tray of healing balms, potions, and a wickedly sharp-looking dagger while the Warden fetched a pile of clean towels and a large bundle of leather straps.

"Let's do this," Zevran announced, eager to get the process over with.

Walter instructed the assassin to lie down, and Zevran watched with trepidation as the Fereldans started buckling straps of various sizes over his forearms, calves and ankles. "Ahhh… perhaps this is the wrong time to be asking this question, but do you know whether this ritual has ever been performed on an elf or not?"

"Of course! My mentor - he's an Orlesian Dalish elf - he had it done, and he's one of the fiercest warriors I know. You'll be right as rain, lad. Just don't look down while we're cutting," the highlander replied.

"_While_ you are… cutting?" _Oh, Maker. Am I to be awake the entire time?_

Tenniel held Zevran's hand and smoothed a few strands of hair from his forehead. "It is going to hurt, but I will be right here with you the entire time. We will make be sure to pick a spot underneath your ribs that doesn't mar your beautiful tattoos. And you can still say no, my dear."

"Not a chance. Do not forget that a Crow has to endure much torture. This is certainly not the first time I have been under the knife, so to speak."

The Dalish healer nodded her head and knelt down to speak to him quietly. "Zevran, it is important that you stay conscious while you are being fused with the blood. That is the only way for me to know if your vital signs are doing well or not. I will do my best to numb the sensation whilst we make the incision, but after your skin is re-knit; when the elixir is introduced to your bloodstream… it _will_ be painful. I am sorry."

"Do not be sorry. I understand." He nodded to Jeanelle and glanced up at Tenniel, who squeezed his hand. Here he was, a foreigner in their territory, and these people - these barbarians, were giving him a choice and apologizing in advance for the pain he was about to endure. _Wonders never cease_.

He squeezed her hand in return, and there was no doubt in his mind. "I am ready."

Zevran smiled at Tenniel, and was reminded of how his Warden had approached him during his Fade-nightmare, when the sloth demon in the tower had trapped him with a vision of his own Trials of Pain.

* * *

_He winced again, covering it up with a slow, throaty chuckle. "Ah, such sweet caresses. Surely you are only teasing, no?"_

_The Crow to his right sneered and turned the rack's crank up one more notch, grinning with satisfaction as the tendon in Zevran's arm made an audible popping sound._

_He knew he deserved every bit of pain. An initiate that had dared to leave the ranks of the Crows for a few years' at playing hunter amongst the Dalish… well, there was no end to the amount of punishment they would inflict upon him. All to make him remember his place; that he was a slave and would be tossed out with the rubbish in some back alley if he didn't obey. He was sure they would have already killed him, if he hadn't proven himself to be adept at both seduction and murder._

Breathe_, he reminded himself, forcing his body to obey and not howl in rage against the pain he was being forced to tolerate. _Just _breathe_, sink into it;do not give them the satisfaction of seeing you react. _He commanded himself and knew he would endure._

_The sound of footsteps interrupted his trance-like state after several long moments, and he noticed that the two Crows assigned to test him were now frowning with dismay. He wondered again why everything seemed so blurry, and then he noticed her standing there with her hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side as she regarded him. What was _she_ doing here? Where had the Crows been hiding this beauty? _

"_Zevran," she said, as she slowly approached him._

_He wondered why she seemed vaguely familiar, just as he wondered how she knew his name. Surely, a lowly initiate did not merit the attention of one of the master's women. He shook his head, a fog of confusion making him unsure for a moment. _

"_I must pass this test," he said, the words coming to him automatically. "I must do this, to become a true Crow."_

_The woman touched the side of his face, and the pain stopped for a moment. He took a deep breath, looked into her green eyes and saw, of all things, kindness. Not pity, not disgust, not amusement or even mere lust, but true kindness. _

"_But you are already a Crow, Zevran." She smiled down at him, held his chin up and kissed him. _

_Memories returned to him, and suddenly, he was free. No ropes were holding him down, and there was no phantom pain at the prospect of torn limbs. The two Crows who were seeing to his trials growled menacingly at her._

_He watched as she dispatched the demons, and he felt for his weapons. Right before she started to fade from his sight, Tenniel smiled and blew him a kiss._

"_Wait! Where are you going? I just found you, woman! Why are you leaving?" He was beyond frustrated. _Makers-damned demons and their mind games!

"_I will find you again, my beautiful assassin…" her words echoed in his mind, and he knew that he would never willingly leave the side of this woman who had spared his life three days ago._

* * *

Pain. Deep, sharp, searing agony. His vision became a red haze, and he was glad that the Avvar had insisted he bite down on a thick strip of leather, because he was sure he would have bit through his lip by now.

The Dalish woman had not lied, and her touch was gentle and soothing as an incision was made. He barely even felt a scratch as his skin was sliced open. But then, Walter had started pouring the dragon's blood elixir into his body, and that's when the true agony began.

Zevran tried in vain to think about it with detachment. He supposed it was like a poisoning, of sort. His body was fighting against the intrusive substance. Only, instead of having it purged from his system, his body was being forced to adapt, to accept it and make it his own. The Antivan started shaking as the burning sensation continued, expanding to encompass his entire body. It felt as if he was being roasted alive, and his eyes bulged as he suddenly convulsed.

He squeezed the hand that was clasped in his right palm, glad to have an anchor there. The first series of shakes passed, and he looked up and gave a muffled scream as a new pain assaulted his senses. He felt as if he was being kicked in the gut. Zevran bit down on the strip of rawhide again and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would not last long.

It didn't. He was suddenly accosted by a frigid sensation. He felt a deep coldness radiating out from the center of his chest, and he shivered, this time frightened. Was _this_ what it felt like before death?

His macabre thoughts were interrupted by Walter. "There, the wound is sealed, the skin has been re-knit beautifully. A superb job, Jeanelle."

Jeanelle's lilting voice grated on his nerves. "Now we just have to wait. Stay with him for the next several hours, Tenniel. The lyrium running through his veins mixed with the blood will make him feel as cold as death."

"Aye. I will not leave him, of that you can be sure." His Warden's husky voice was like music to his ears, and he turned his face towards her. She touched his cheek and kissed him, somehow knowing that he needed such reassurance.

Another series of shakes wracked his body, and his shoulders twitched for a moment as he felt his skin break out in goosebumps. He was so cold!

"Walter, can we loosen his bindings now? He's…"

"He'll have the dreams. If you want to set him loose, that's fine. But _you_ must keep him restrained. Keep him here, in the cottage. Can't have a mad hunter on the loose and running off before his body's settled into the blood."

"Here, he must drink this tea. It will help keep him calm." Jeanelle added.

"Alright," his Warden replied. She tilted his head up and brought a mug to his lips. He immediately started swallowing the warm liquid as hands started to untie the leather bindings on his legs and arms. She took the mug away, and he shivered again before giving a sigh of relief as he felt the warm skin of his Warden's arms encircle his back and waist, moving him closer to the edge of the cot.

Zevran opened his eyes, about to protest as she shimmied one arm underneath his knees and made a move as if to pick him up. He felt so weak, and so cold! This… this was an outrage, that he was being carried by a woman as if he was some helpless child. He was a grown man, and a Crow at that! How had he let himself get into such a vulnerable predicament?

He whimpered, unable to talk or do anything else as his body began to shiver again. The only comfort was the feel of her warm breasts beneath the silk gown at his shoulder as she walked towards the bedroom. He moved his head against her, trying to nuzzle closer.

"It's okay. I've got you, sweetheart," she said, before gently lowering him onto the bed. Tenniel pulled the blankets up and covered him, then wrapped the blanket around him and held him close.

He fidgeted a little, then started whimpering again. "_Hace frio_!6"

Tenniel rubbed his arm and back through the blanket and tried to keep him comfortable. But he was starting to feel disoriented.

_Why is this barbarian witch holding me prisoner like this? She's trying to freeze me and put me in a larder with all that food. _"Arggh! Get away from me, let me go! You're not going to eat me!"

The Warden chuckled a little, then kissed his forehead and tried to comfort him again. "Shhh, shhh, it's all right, sweetie. No one is going to eat you. But you _are_ very tasty." She held him close and rubbed his back, slowly rocking them back and forth, as if trying to soothe a baby. When he finally stopped fidgeting, she carefully extricated herself from the covers, got up and moved the large bed closer to the fireplace.

Zevran closed his eyes as his body was wracked with another set of the shakes. He could hear his heart beating slowly inside of his chest, like a Keeper beating a very large drum at the Wintersend festival. She was gone, and he was left here in this strange place, all alone and very cold. He started to shiver again, thinking about the death he deserved for having left the Crows.

"Shhh… there, there, I've got you. I'm here," she reassured him. He hadn't even realized he was moaning, but at least the shivering had stopped. Her voice comforted him again, almost as much as the feel of her warm, naked body against his. She unlaced his breeches, pulled them off and then tucked some more blankets around both of them before wrapping her arms around him and cuddling him close.

"Better now?" She whispered to him, kissing his forehead as she caressed the side of his face.

He nodded, then lay his head against her chest. Zevran felt safe and warm as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_He looks up at Rinna and water begins to fall, dripping slowly down the stairwell to become a grisly red mess of blood. Her pupils grow wide, eyes becoming entirely black, her gaze as empty and lifeless as he feels. How she is able to speak with all the blood dripping steadily out of her neck escapes him._

"_Why did you not trust me? How could you just let me die like that?"_

_She repeats the questions, over and over again. He replies with silence, his regret turning into panic as he backs down the stairs and she follows, chasing him across the cobbled street and down the dark alleyway. _

_Her face wavers, becoming unrecognizable as her once-lovely raven hair transforms into a tangled mass of cold, thorny vines, latching onto to his legs and pulling him back towards a dark, gaping mass of nothingness. Hundreds of voices scream accusingly:_

"_You are a coward. You will never know love!" _

_Suddenly, the dream is different. He thinks of Tenniel, and of what he has promised. A light flashes, he feels rage building up in his heart, and he screams at the monstrous thing, grabbing a dagger from a hidden seam at his lower back and bringing it up to slice at the Rinna-demon. _

_He stabs once, twice, then slashes away the vines that have latched onto his legs, causing the thing to scream in agony._

"_I am _not_ a coward! I am sorry for what was done to you, Rinna, but I will _not_ live the rest of my life in regret. You are dead now, and there is nothing I can do about that…"_

_Zevran is amazed as the monster suddenly shrinks and turns back into Rinna again. She is lovely as always, and smirks up at him. He grips his dagger tightly and shakes his head in sorrow._

"_Why do you torment me so? Or, am I just tormenting myself?" he asks._

"_About time you realized that," she speaks softly to him._

"_Please, forgive me, Rinna. I… I am truly sorry, that I allowed Taliesen to kill you."_

"_Hush, Zevran. There is nothing to forgive. If anyone is to blame, blame the Crow Masters. What is done, is done. I have moved on, and so should you." She reaches towards him, smiles, pulls her arm back to her side, and slowly disappears._

"_Adios, mi amiga," he says._

_He walks slowly over the landscape of the Fade, wondering why he is still conscious in this realm. A dark violet portal suddenly appears before him, and he hesitates briefly before taking a deep breath and pushing through._

_The landscape is slightly more twisted, and there is a burning castle in the background. Darkspawn corpses are littering the ground, but there is an open door and a hallway, and he walks towards the sounds of weeping that he hears coming from another room._

_A blonde woman in a dirty shift has her back towards him, and she is kneeling over an elven man, weeping. _

"_Don't go! Please, don't do this… I love you," she sobs, completely overcome with grief. Her despair is almost palpable, and Zevran longs to comfort her. He wants to tell the man to stop doing whatever he is doing to this woman, and he walks closer to the couple._

_Suddenly, the man pushes her away, and she cries aloud as he sips something from a small vial. His body begins to shake, and then, his skin melts, along with his bones. In just a matter of seconds, there is only a pile of ash amongst some rags on the floor. _

_The woman sobs again, and begins rocking back and forth, holding her head in her hands. "Why, why, why? Why did he leave me?"_

_She slowly turns towards him, and he is shocked to discover that this is Tenniel. Tears are streaming down her face and her hair is in disarray. She looks utterly broken, and her next words fill him with sorrow._

"_You're _here_? But you _can't_ be here. You're not real. No one stays. They all leave me. Nobody I love ever stays…" She picks up a small pebble from the ground and begins scratching spirals into the stone floor._

_He wants to go to her, to hold her and comfort her, but he cannot move his feet. The dream slips away…_

* * *

"Mmm… let me up. Are you all right?" Zevran shifted underneath the covers and asked his Warden as he realized she was also awake.

"Am _I_ all right? I should be asking _you_ that question! Just a couple hours ago, you were trashing around like one of the possessed, claiming that I was a barbarian witch who was trying to freeze you up so I could eat you later."

Zevran noticed her quickly wipe a tear from the corner of her eye, but decided not to comment on it. _Did that mean that she loves me? No, I will not mention it. All in good time, as they say. _"Hmmm… must have been something in that potion Jeanelle gave me. I usually don't mind if a lovely woman wants to nibble on me, hahaha!" he laughed and then grinned at her, trying to put her mind at ease.

The Warden chuckled at his flirtation response. "It's all right. Who knows what was in that potion. Glad to see your temperature and your disposition is back to normal, though. How are you feeling?" She started to unwrap the covers from around them.

"I… I feel fine, considering. Better than fine. In fact, I think I'd like to take a walk…"

"Feeling energetic? It is the middle of the night, you crazy Antivan! But, whatever you need… just ask. Let's go for a walk."

An hour later, they were practicing in the training room with wooden swords, neither of them holding back as they battled each other. Tenniel and Zevran were fully engrossed in their mock fight, and at one point, she tripped him as he turned to block her left sword. But Zevran had a few tricks up his sleeve as well. He swiped wildly at her sword as he fell, disarming her, right before he pulled her down on top of himself.

He looked up at her, breathless with excitement and he released his wooden sword, reached up behind her neck and pulled her down towards him in a fierce kiss. His hands were all over her body as she straddled his legs, and he held her close, probing her mouth with his tongue. The taste of her, the feel of her skin covered in the silk dress, all the sensations she was awakening in him… he felt he had never needed to feel another warm body against his as badly as he needed her in that moment.

"Mmm… Tenniel," he whispered, as he finally broke the kiss.

She looked down at him and smiled. "Yes? What is it you desire?"

"You. Now. Cottage… let's go." He quickly sprang up from the floor, reached for her hand, and ran out of the building, across the yard towards the cottage.

* * *

They had barely made it to the bed, and their clothes were strewn about the floor from the door all the way to their bedroom. The mabari had barked at them for daring to interrupt his slumber, and then exited the premises as soon as they entered the cottage.

All that could be heard was the sound of heavy breathing, the meaty slap of their flesh meeting as Zevran thrust into her, and the occasional groan when they paused from kissing to gasp for more air.

His need for her was all-encompassing, so much so that he was almost scared, for a moment. He wanted to make her feel him, to feel what he felt, all the way to her core. Zevran wanted her to lose herself in the moment, to give in to pleasure and scream his name again. He wanted to make her forget about the past. She had no reason to be sad; he was there, and she was his. He groaned as he felt her tighten around his cock again, and he pushed into her, almost savagely.

Tenniel screamed, and then the noise was muffled as he captured her mouth in another kiss. She met him, thrust for thrust, her legs wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his length into her.

"Mmm… mine. Mine! Tenniel, _amada mía_!7" Zevran kissed her again and he knew he was being rough, but he wanted, no, _needed_ her to feel his passion for her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in to the sensations, allowing him to be in full control.

He shifted his position very slightly. _Yes, there_.

She gasped, and suddenly, the intensity of everything she was feeling was just too much. Tenniel felt her body spasm as the stars all went out and then flashed in brilliance before her eyes.

"Zevran, Zevran, _Zevran_!" She could say no more.

He kissed her again and held her tightly. The Warden was his, and no one else's. She belonged to him, and he wanted everyone to know it. He heard her screaming his name, over and over again, and that's what sent him over the edge.

"Tenniel!" he yelled, his voice hoarse with need. He kissed her exposed neck and her shoulder, and increased his pace. Zevran started kissing, then sucking the skin on her shoulder, right above her collar bone. He felt her body tense as another series of orgasms took her, and that's when he bit down.

The metallic tang of blood mingled with the salty taste of their sweat on her skin. He thrust deep inside of her and it was his turn to scream, as he brought her to orgasm again and her body gripped his cock even more tightly, squeezing every last drop of passion out of him. He released his seed into her and groaned aloud, finally giving in to the pleasure he had been so intent on ensuring she felt.

* * *

Their hearts were beating together, loud and fast and fierce. She weakly moved one of her legs, and he rolled over so she was on top of him. Zevran licked and then tenderly kissed the bite mark he had given her, already starting to regret his brazen act.

"I am sorry…" he whispered, trying to explain.

"Don't you _dare_ apologize, not for _this_. Not ever!" she whispered back, clinging to him, her body still sheathed around his manhood.

"But… I have _marked_ you! You are…" He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him; that he wanted to protect her and stay by her side… he thought of everything he had heard while he was amongst the Dalish, but the proper words failed to come.

"I know. Thank you, Zevran. I am honored."

_Ah, but of course she knows, Zevran. _He released the breath he had been holding and finally remembered what she had told him about spending some time with the Dalish in Orlais. She had probably noticed many of their customs. _Well, so much for trying to hide your true feelings._ He smiled wistfully and squeezed her even more tightly.

"No, it is _I _who am honored. Thank you, Tenniel. Thank you, for everything. I said I would stay by your side, for as long as you would have me. And now, you are my Bonded. You have my heart. I will stay by your side, without question, for as long as I walk amongst the living." _Even if you don't want me. _

She returned his squeeze, and met his lips for another kiss. They both started chuckling at the same time, and after a few moments, they were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down their faces.

"Aren't we a pair fine pair," she said, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yes, we are," he agreed. "Now, let's get cleaned up and put some ointment on that… wound." They got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom.

He saw the reddish imprint of his teeth in her skin being illuminated by the lamplights and winced. "I am sorry. It's going to leave a mark," he tried to apologize again, for not preparing her. He saw that her lips were swollen from all of his rough kisses, but he didn't regret that at all.

Tenniel looked into his eyes before reaching out to caress the side of his face. "And didn't I tell you to not apologize for this? I will wear your mark with pride, Zevran. Now, I remember you telling me that you designed most of your tattoos. Are you going to decorate me properly?" she giggled, making him smile again.

"But of course! I would love to decorate your body with some of my unique artwork. Let me think… hmmm… yes, I can see it already. It will be something beautiful, and powerful, and intricate, just like you."

"Oh, really? I can't wait to see what you have in mind…"

After they bathed, Zevran let the mabari back into the house before he returned to their bedroom.

"No, Terri. No getting on the bed. You're too big for that now. And you smell like you've been in a rubbish pile again. Go sleep in the sitting room, boy," the Warden insisted. "And you're getting a bath tomorrow!" she added, then giggled.

The dog whined piteously, as if pouting, then he hung his head down before curling up on a rug near the main fireplace. Zevran closed their bedroom door and sighed, glad that she wasn't the type to insist her dog stay with her at all times.

Tenniel was already starting to doze off by the time he crawled into bed, and the assassin was happy to snuggle up next to her warmth. He hoped she wouldn't have another horrible nightmare like the one he witnessed earlier. It was still a mystery as to how or why he was able to see her dreamscape, but Zevran supposed it had something to do with their shared dragon blood.

"Sweet dreams, _mi amora_. Sweet dreams." He kissed her cheek, wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed another restful night of sleep.

* * *

"You have served Highever well, Ser Walter Gilmore. My father, the late Teyrn, entrusted you with our care time and time again. I humbly ask that you keep my family's sword and shield here in your hold for safekeeping, until such time as my brother or I return to claim it. Will you do this?"

The Fereldans she had met with the previous day were all gathered in the main hall that morning. Their horses were waiting in the yard outside, and most of the knights had already packed their things and were prepared to venture back down the mountain towards the lake again. Ser Timothy, Ser Rosalynn and Ser Marcel were all standing at attention, bearing witness to the event.

"Aye, Lady Tenniel. I will. All ye who witness this, let it be known that I have been entrusted with the Cousland family crest; sword and shield, and I will return it when the new Teyrn or Teyrna comes to claim it."

"Aye!" All who were present shouted in agreement as Ser Walter bowed and accepted the sword and shield.

"Thank you, Walter. This means a lot to me, and to my family."

"Of course, lass. I fought in the rebellion with your father, Maker rest his soul. And I watched over you when you were younger. I'm happy to say you turned out to be a fine fighter. And very glad to see that you haven't given up the hope of reclaiming Highever someday."

"You can thank my Zevran, for that. He's the one who made me see reason, and made sure I didn't just sell the family sword and shield for supplies or something." They all laughed together as she pulled Zevran closer, wrapping her arm around his waist.

The assassin kissed his Warden, then experienced a moment of déjà vu when she asked if he was going to join them for the dragon hunt.

"Of course! I go where you go. Besides, we need to get rid of these dragons before one of them tries to make off with the children."

Walter grimaced at Zevran's remark. "Acchh, lad! May Hakkon Wintersbreath strike such horrible thoughts from your head! 'Tis a real hazard, up here. You know not how many pups I've seen plucked from the mountainside by the foul beasts over the decades…"

"Aye, 'tis true. This is why we don't let the little ones play in the yard unless we're out here to watch them. And why most of the animals stay under the enclosure as well. But don't worry, Da. I'm sure that you, Ten-Ten, and our new hunter will smite plenty of the beasties today," Regina added.

Walter, Zevran and Tenniel were all wearing their best armor, prepared to go on their dragon-hunting expedition as soon as the Ferelden visitors left through the gates.

Ser Marcel approached Tenniel and gave her a hug. "Well, you three certainly look like you're ready to do battle. I am grateful to be on _your_ side."

"Ah, it was good to see you here, Marcel. If… no, _when_ I find my brother, I know he'll be glad to find out that you didn't perish in Ostagar."

"I will look for your brother as well, Lady Tenniel. Not much else I can do right now, with my father and older brothers off trying to defend our lands against the darkspawn. And I'm very glad to have run into you on this trip. We already knew we were fighting a losing battle, and now that we know this is a true Blight… well, let's just say that I'm eager to get back to civilization. I'll give my father your message – we'll pull our troops back and concentrate on assisting the refugees from now on. Perhaps we'll meet again, whenever you get to Denerim."

"Yes, I'd like that. Stay safe, Marcel. And if you do find my brother, well, hopefully I will have avenged our family by that time. Please, just tell him that I am well, and to wait for me before doing anything rash," she added.

"Hahaha, I'll be sure to let him know that. You always were the one looking after him. Certainly better with your swords than he ever was. Maker speed your journey, m'lady. We need you." He bowed at the waist and tapped his fist over his heart, armor clanging in salute. The other knights copied his gesture, taking their leave of the acting Teyrna.

"Aye. Maker watch over us all." The Warden waved goodbye to her friends of the Bannorn.

After the rest of the Fereldans left the hold a few moments later, Walter called the entire family and permanent residents of the keep out into the yard. He presented the Antivan with a fine-looking dragonbone saw sword.

"From henceforth, you shall be known as Zevran Ar Arainai O Peakhold! Welcome to our clan, hunter. Our gates will be forever open to you. No matter how far your travels take you, may you always find your way home to this hold."

Zevran knelt down, bending on one knee to accept the weapon as he was declared a member of Walter's Avvarian clan.

"Here, here!" Regina clapped, and everyone cheered before gathering closer to congratulate Zevran, welcoming him into their small clan. Wilton stood next to his very pregnant wife, Melissa, while Roderick and Emily grinned at each other, still surprised to see that Lady Tenniel had chosen an elf as her mate. Kayla and Darren took turns chasing Terri and each other around Jeanelle as Walter and Regina watched Tenniel embrace her bonded.

"And now, it's time for the dragon hunt!" Zevran exclaimed, eager to help ensure the safety of his new friends and family.

* * *

6 It's cold  
7 My beloved


	19. End of Part One

**Author's note**: Aloha and g'day, readers! My apologies for having to take such a long break from 's a little filler, so that I don't disappoint any of you looking for something of a "real" addition. Please see the continuation of this story in _**Thanks – Part Two**_. And please review! Your comments are appreciated.

* * *

Darren shifted impatiently on the bearskin rug in front of their large fireplace. "So, wait – are you saying that our mum and you and Ser Walter all went dragon hunting together?"

"Yes, child, that is exactly what we did." The Antivan nodded before taking another sip of tea.

"And was that before the darkspawn were defeated?"

"Yes, Kayla. That is correct. Now what are you doing with that dagger? Did I not show you how to hold it properly this morning?" He watched as Tenniel's six-year-old daughter made an awkward stabbing motion with the veridium blade.

"And you still hadn't told our mum that you loved her yet?" The tow-headed boy interrupted.

Zevran sighed. _Maker save me from children and their incessant questions…_ "No, I regret it very much _now_, but I still had not told her I loved her then."

Darren smirked and rested his chin on his hands. "Why not?"

"I do not know, children. It is probably a matter of foolish pride. You see, a Crow must never admit to having feelings."

"Why not?" the boy's sister asked.

"That, my dears, is a very long story indeed…"


End file.
